Ghosts in the Woods
by 42 Zombies
Summary: It's been a few months since Mae come home. Things are weird, and also there might be ghosts. It's a pretty spooky time in Possum Springs. A Night in the Woods slice-of-life story.
1. Sessions

Mae had only been in the office for ten seconds, and already she had a problem. The seat wasn't comfortable.

When she'd done therapy with Dr. Hank, the seat had at least been comfortable. It was the same chair he used when he cleaned Mae's teeth, or when he'd done chiropractor stuff on Mae's dad.

Chiropractor stuff? Was that the best way to describe it? Chiropractory? Chiropractorism?

"Uh… Mae?"

Dr. Feldman looked at Mae curiously. He was sitting on a sofa that didn't look much more comfortable than the couch Mae was on. His computer desk was off to his right, and the only other decoration was a calendar with pictures of covered bridges on it.

"Yeah?" Mae asked.

"I was asking you what you wanted to talk about first. You okay?"

"Oh, sorry," Mae said. "Guess I spaced out a little. Must be a little nervous, is all."

Mae tried to laugh in a way that didn't show how incredibly uncomfortable she was. She failed. Dr. Feldman just gave an understanding little nod and smile.

"Would it make you feel better to bring one of your parents with you next time?"

Oh, sure, Mae thought. Get all my angst and dirty laundry out in front of mom and dad. Make them worry even more about me. That'll lead to an interesting car ride home.

"I'll manage," Mae said after a brief pause. "So, Dr. Feldman—"

"Call me Bart," he said. "Talking to your doctor is stressful. Talking to someone named Bart is easy."

"Is your name actually Bart?"

"Eh," Dr. Feldman said, and shrugged.

Mae had to admit that, as far as names went, 'Bart' was one of the least intimidating ones.

"Shouldn't you start by asking me questions?" Mae asked.

"What would I ask about? If I don't know what you want to talk about, I don't know where to start."

"What do you mean you don't know where to start?" Mae asked. "Shouldn't you know all of this?"

Dr. Feldman played a bit with his pen, his notebook lying in his lap. "Your parents gave me an idea of what's been troubling you, but—"

"Did they tell you about the kid I put in the hospital?"

"That came up once or twice, yeah."

Mae frowned. "Well, shouldn't you ask about that? That's a hell of a place to start. I don't know how anything else'll stack up to that."

Well, so long as 'anything else' didn't include what had happened in the mines last year.

"Okay. We can talk about that, then, if you want."

"What? No. No, no, no, no, no. I don't know if I'm ready to talk about that yet. I just, y'know, assumed that was what you wanted to talk about."

"Eventually, yes," Dr. Feldman said, "but this is our first session, Mae. I want to get a grasp of who you are before we go into any details."

Mae considered what Dr. Feldman said for a moment. "I don't know how you'll get a grasp on that, considering I'm not 100% sure who I am."

Dr. Feldman wrote something down in his notes, much to Mae's horror. Oh, God. He was analyzing her. Using his crazy psychology magic.

"We'll start with something simple, then," Dr. Feldman said. "How are you feeling?"

"Hungry."

"Yeah, this appointment was scheduled a little close to lunch, huh? Seriously, though, how have you been feeling lately? Has anything been bothering you?"

Ooh, boy. That was a big question. It had only been a few months since Mae and her friends had explored the mines just outside Possum Springs. Quite a few things had happened since then. Mae had been having weird dreams, for one. As for another…

"Well," Mae admitted. "I guess something's been bothering me. And, like, I know I shouldn't let it bother me, but I can't help it. You know?"

"Oh, I know," Dr. Feldman said. "Mae, I hear that sort of thing a hundred times a day. Hell, I think that to myself all the time."

Mae kicked her feet a bit, looking down at her boots. "It's just something that's got to do with a friend of mine. Something good, but not something I'm, like, happy about."

Dr. Feldman wrote something else down, and then returned his attention to Mae. "Who's this friend? And what is it that's bothering you?"

Mae didn't really want to talk about it. If she said it out loud, it would seem more real, somehow. Still, it was better than talking about the softball incident.

"Well, it's my best friend. His name's Gregg. He's basically been my friend since we were, like, fetuses. Anyway, in a couple of months, he and his boyfriend are going to be moving to Bright Harbor."

Dr. Feldman simply nodded. "And you find yourself wishing that they didn't have to move?"

"No!" Mae said, quick and defensive. Dr. Feldman gave her a look that showed he didn't believe her for a second.

"Well, yeah. A little. It's something they both want, or need, or whatever. I'm happy they're getting out of Possum Springs but… Bright Harbor's not exactly close, you know?"

"Oh, I know," Feldman said. "My mother lives in Bright Harbor, and she's always complaining that she doesn't live closer to her grandchildren. Just… constantly."

Mae briefly wondered why parents were all so obsessed with grandkids. Then she wondered if her granddad had ever been like this with her parents. Then she remembered that time she told her granddad about her plan to own a dog, two cats, and howl at the moon.

Apparently, she carried on remembering it long enough for Dr. Feldman to notice.

"Mae? We were talking about your friend?"

"Huh?" Mae asked.

"When did you start to realize you weren't entirely happy about your friend moving away? Was it when he first told you?"

"No," Mae said defensively. "Well, not exactly. When he first told me about his plan, I was happy for him. Then… I dunno, a buncha stuff happened that kept me from really thinking about it. So I guess I didn't realize how I felt until a few weeks ago."

Dr. Feldman wrote something down in his notebook once again. "Uh-huh," he said. "And what was it that made you realize?"

Ugh. Jeez. Should she tell him? Mae barely knew this Dr. Feldman guy. Still, she had to admit he was good at getting her to open up. Besides, even if the story wasn't something she'd tell just anyone, this guy wouldn't go blabbing about it.

Would he? Wasn't it illegal to talk about your crazy patients or something?

Well, whatever. Mae could tell him about this at least.

"Well," Mae began, "it all started when Gregg told me he was going to do something he'd always wanted to do…"

* * *

"I'm gonna break my neck," Gregg said confidently.

Mae pondered Gregg's words for a moment. The two friends stood on top of large, grassy hill that stood on the outskirts of the Food Donkey parking lot. Gregg was holding a large, rubber tired under one arm and staring down the hill.

"Like, you're planning on breaking your neck?" Mae asked.

"No, like… I'm just saying, money's good I'll break my neck doing this." Gregg didn't exactly seem concerned with his prediction.

"Break your neck on what? You're going to be inside of the tire."

Gregg shrugged. "I dunno. Maybe the tire will, like, hit something hard. Like a rock, or a car, or something."

Mae looked down the hill, to the creek that trickled along at the bottom. "I don't think you're going to hit a car, dude. Anyway, you'll probably wind up breaking your arm or something like Tim Whitley did that one time."

"Tim Whitley didn't have my skillllllls," Gregg said, stretching out the last word. "I'm a champ at falling. Remember the stairs at the apartment? I almost died, like, nine times."

"You wouldn't have died at all if you'd used the elevator to start with," Mae pointed out.

Gregg waved his hand dismissively. "If we'd started off with the elevator, we wouldn't have, like, grown closer together in that stairwell. You nearly crushing me under a box of heavy machinery made us better friends."

"Well, when you put it that away, I guess you're welcome."

Mae took another glance down the hill. A thought occurred to her.

"Why is there only one tire? What am I going to roll down in?"

Gregg gave her a confused look, and immediately looked regretful. "Oh, dude. I didn't know you'd want to try this."

"Why the hell would I not want to roll myself downhill in a tire?!" Mae asked.

She and Gregg had been best friends forever, and yet it was like he didn't even know her. This was legitimately upsetting.

A laugh from Gregg soon eased her worry, however.

"Dude, I'm screwing with you. We're both kinda short, so I figure we'll both fit into this thing."

"Oh, nice," Mae said. "Also, that seems more dangerous?"

"Nah, dude," Gregg said with a shrug. "If there's two of us, it'll be, like, cushioning. Only one of use will probably get hurt."

Mae smirked. "Yeah. You, probably," she said. "I bet you'll somehow run over yourself with the tire."

Gregg's eyes seemed to light up. "I bet you'll break your neck and drown in the creek down there."

"I bet we'll hit a rock and you'll bite your tongue off."

"I bet I'll spit my tongue out and you'll choke to death on it."

A look of disgust crossed Mae's face. "Oh, gross, dude. I don't wanna swallow your tongue. I don't even like my own tongue."

Gregg nodded sagely. "Tongues are kinda gross, yeah."

A few seconds passed. Out in the distance, towards the old woods that lead to the old mines, birds began to sing. Mae began to completely forget what they were doing.

"Okay, get in," Gregg said. Without any hesitation, he began to crawl into the tire. He grunted as he squeezed himself in, sitting with his back pressed against the inner ring.

It took Mae about a minute to get into the tire herself. At first, she thought she was supposed to sit on Gregg. She realized this wasn't the case when he began flailing around. After that, she figured out how to set herself in across from Gregg. It was a snug fit, but at least this way, Mae didn't think either of them would fall out.

Gregg's left leg was sticking out of the side of the tire, pressing against the grassy ground. He had that old Greggory smile on his face. It was a smile Mae knew well. It was a smile that said, 'Oh, boy, this might kill us!'

"You ready?" Gregg asked.

Mae smiled. "Nope. Do it."

Gregg pushed off with his foot, and the tire slowly began rolling forward. Mae watched Gregg tuck his leg into the tire, and soon the world was turning upside-down.

There wasn't really anything Mae could compare the sensation to. The world spun around them as they rolled down the hill, the tire bouncing with every stray pebble and twig it bumped into. Mae looked down, then up, then down again at Gregg, who was laughing like a maniac.

"Awoooooooo!" Gregg howled excitedly.

Mae opened her mouth to return the howl. Something else came out instead.

In hindsight, Mae wasn't sure what she'd expected to happen. She had a weak stomach, after all. That was the reason she didn't ride roller coasters, or bungee jump, or whatever. If Mae had to guess, she'd say she puked more than a normal person.

When the ride ended, neither of them were laughing. Gregg was trying to wash the puke off with water from the creek. Mae was lying on her side next to the tire, her hands clutching her stomach.

It didn't help that she'd eaten, like, two lunches that day.

"Well," Gregg sighed, his puke-covered jacket flung over his shoulder, "that probably could've gone better, right?"

"I'm so sorry, Gregg," Mae mumbled.

Gregg sat beside his friend and placed a hand on her shoulder. He smiled reassuringly at her, patting her once or twice and then drawing his hand away.

"Dude, don't apologize. We both forgot that you're, like, a puke fountain."

Mae groaned, mumbling something that even she didn't fully understand.

"Besides, it's not even your first time puking on someone," Gregg said teasingly.

That comment made Mae sit up. She frowned, unamused, at Gregg, her eyelids lowered. "Not funny, dude."

"I disagree. I'm covered in puke, and I think it's hilarious."

A second passed. Then, they were howling with laughter. Gregg flung his arm over Mae's shoulder, giving her a friendly hug as the absurdity of the situation came to them. They laughed for what felt like hours, until their sides hurt and they could hardly breathe.

At the end, Mae and Gregg laid back on the hill, staring up at the sky. The weather was getting warmer, and the sky seemed to be getting bluer. Mae almost couldn't believe she'd been back in Possum Springs for so long.

She'd been home for Thanksgiving, Longest Night, New Years. College and all of its problems seemed like a distant dream; like a brief hiatus in her normal life.

Of course, this wasn't Mae's normal life anymore. Nothing had really felt normal since last Halloween. Mae had been having strange dreams since Thanksgiving. She couldn't always remember them, but she felt like they involved someone… important. Someone who had a lot to say.

Before Mae could ponder it any further, Gregg interrupted her train of thought.

"I'm gonna miss this."

Mae looked over to her friend, who was smiling sadly at her. "What do you mean?" Mae asked. "We can do stupid shit when you're in Bright Harbor. I'm going to visit, remember?"

Gregg was quiet for a moment. "Well, yeah," he said. "But Mae, Bright Harbor's out of state. It's not a two hour drive. You're welcome to visit, like, whenever, but we probably aren't going to see each other much."

Those words felt like a giant weight sitting on Mae's chest. She'd realized this, of course. But hearing something out loud made it seem more real.

Mae turned her head back to look up at the sky. She wanted to say something cool. She wanted to play it off, to be encouraging. She wanted Gregg and Angus to be happy. At the same time, though, she didn't want them to leave.

And that only made Mae feel guilty. What kind of friend was she?

She laid there for a while, quiet. Time seemed to pass, but it was impossible to tell how much. The two friends watched the clouds drift across the sky for what seemed like hours.

It was Gregg who broke the silence. He sat up, stretching as he did so. "Well," he said, "this didn't go how I expected it to, but all in all, I'd say it was a fun time."

"You think getting puked on is fun?" Mae asked. Gregg simply shrugged.

"No. But, I dunno. It'll be something to remember, right? We can laugh about it someday."

Mae chuckled at that. "You can laugh about it. I'll just be sad forever."

As she sat up, Gregg clapped Mae on the back. "Well, my dude, we should get going. Angus is gonna wonder why I smell like your puke."

"Angus is going to know it's my puke specifically?" Mae asked, surprised. "Is his nose that good?"

"Nah, but I never puke. Between the two of us, he'll figure out it was you."

Mae laughed, but her heart wasn't entirely in it. As the two made their way back to Gregg's bike, Mae couldn't stop herself from wondering if how she felt made her a bad person.

And, when she went to bed that night, it was the last thing she thought of when she went to sleep.

* * *

 _It was a dream._

 _Mae knew it was a dream. She couldn't always tell, but lately her dreams had all followed a similar pattern._

 _She was in the woods, but the trees were the same as the sky. There were stars everywhere. In the fire. In the ground. In the eyes of the boy sitting next to her._

 _Casey looked good for a dead guy. He wasn't all there, sure, but Mae could tell it was him. He was somewhere between a shadow and an echo, if that made sense. There, but not there. Like a hole someone hadn't finished making._

 _"_ _When I did that tire thing, I crashed into a tree," Casey mused. "Mom practically had a fit. Dad didn't give a shit, though."_

 _"_ _I wasn't there for that," Mae sighed. "I think I was sick that summer. Like, food poisoning from eating at the Bratwurst Hut we had for three months."_

 _"_ _God, how'd that place stay open for three months? How does a bratwurst-based fast food restaurant even work?"_

 _"_ _I mean, not well, apparently."_

 _Mae sighed. She looked around her, trying to place exactly where she was. It all seemed kind of familiar. Kind of._

 _"_ _Where are we?" She asked. Mae wasn't really concerned, but she still wanted to know._

 _"_ _This is where we had that party," Casey said. "The one you had your first beer at."_

 _Mae grimaced. Even in a dream, she didn't want to think about that party. It didn't seem like she had much of a choice, though, considering her stupid brain had decided this place would be the perfect setting for a party._

 _"_ _God, all of my parties lately have been terrible," Mae sighed. "There was the party when I got home, the one I went to with Bea… And the New Year's party."_

 _"_ _Oh, yeah, the New Year's party," Casey chuckled. "Man, I'm just, like, your subconscious, and even I had a bad time at that party."_

 _"_ _Do me a favor and let's stop talking about it," Mae grumbled. She pulled her knees to her chest and stared forlornly at the fire._

 _There were no animal sounds. At least, no sounds Mae recognized as animals. The fire crackled, but it made no noise. Even Casey, when he spoke, didn't talk so much as his words just appeared in Mae's head._

 _The only sound was music. Music, music, music, music._

 _The Dream Casey was looking up at the sky. He looked exactly like he had the last time Mae had seen him. Same hoodie, same jeans, same dumb camouflage shirt. For some reason, seeing him like this made Mae want to cry._

 _"_ _The stars, man," Casey whispered. Mae looked at him, confused. He seemed to have completely forgotten Mae existed. His focus was entirely on the starry night above._

 _"_ _I would've loved to see what the stars look like out west," Casey sighed. "Just crash in some field out in the Midwest and spend the night looking up, you know?" He laughed. It wasn't a happy laugh._

 _"_ _There aren't any stars down here, Mae. They look like stars, but they aren't stars. They're just… lights. No warmth, just a glow."_

 _Mae frowned. "Jeez, you must be a dream. The real Casey never said anything that, like, poetic."_

 _The Dream Casey looked back at Mae. He looked a bit embarrassed. "I was plenty poetic. I wrote songs and shit. I was unappreciated in my time."_

 _Despite how sad she felt, Mae couldn't help but laugh. Even if it wasn't really him, it was close enough. "We all appreciated you, Casey. We all loved you."_

 _Casey didn't respond. The two friends sat in the silence of the dreamed night and watched the stars form impossible patterns._


	2. Party People

"Mae, you'll be fine," Bea sighed.

Mae sat in the passenger's seat of Bea's car, squirming nervously as she looked at her friend. It was dark outside. Empty fields and farms rolled past the windows as they drove towards their destination. They'd already been driving for an hour, and had a while to go.

"What do I say if I see her again, though?" Mae asked. Her nose wrinkled from the scent of Bea's cigarette. Bea had cracked both of the front windows open, but they didn't help much.

"You could probably say 'Hi'. That's generally a safe bet," Bea said, her tone as sarcastic as ever.

"What if I come across as a creep?" Mae asked. "I mean, it's been a few months since the last party. What if she forgot me? What if she found someone who's, like, tall, and hot, and can talk good?"

"You've been worrying about this for the whole car ride," Bea sighed. "Look, if you see her, and you get nervous, then let me know. I'll help you out."

That took Mae by surprise. "You'd really do that?"

Bea chuckled. "Yeah. And, unlike you, I actually know how to play wingman."

Mae winced.

"Sorry," Bea said. "Didn't mean to come across as, like, passive aggressive. That sounded funnier in my head."

"It's fine," Mae said. "And if we see Colin again, let me know, and I'll stay far away."

Bea laughed at that. "Pretty sure that opportunity's passed, Maeday. Don't sweat it; plenty of fish in the sea."

"Squids, too," Mae mused. "Wait, are squids fish?"

"They're cephalopods," Bea said.

"I knew that," Mae said.

A gas station passed them by on Mae's side of the car. The station had an attached Snack Falcon, which made Mae wonder what Gregg was up to. He and Angus were on a date, but what were their dates like?

Back in high school, she and Cole and Gregg and Angus had gone out as a group to Pastabilities at least once. But Gregg and Angus weren't living together back then.

Mae wasn't even sure what a date at home would be like. Was it just, like, eating dinner, and cuddling? Would they wrestle? Who would win if they did?

Angus had the size advantage, but he was a big teddy bear. Mae knew for a fact that Gregg was scrappy, and he had a mean headlock. Would Gregg use his headlock on Angus, though? Or did he love him too much?

Is that what love is? Not using your best wrestling moves on someone?

Maybe it was. It was a touching thought.

Mae wouldn't hesitate, though. She'd destroy anyone she wrestled; no matter how much she loved them. Mae wouldn't eff around. Mae would straight up suplex a bitch.

Or try to, at least. She was pretty small, after all.

Bombshell was around Mae's size, though. She'd be easy to suplex. Or piledrive. Bombshell had looked like she could take a piledriver.

Mae refused to get with anyone who couldn't take a piledriver. If they couldn't hold their own in a fight, they weren't gonna get none of this.

Mae felt like these were realistic relationship goals.

* * *

The street was the same. Same pizza place, same goth dorks, same parking lot. The only thing that had changed was the weather.

Weird, pounding music emanated from down the stairs that lead into the club. Bright lights seemed to leak out into the city streets, like they were painting the night air.

They'd only been there for a few minutes, and Mae already wanted to go home. The last time she'd been here, it hadn't exactly gone well. She was amazed she hadn't caught a cold from running after Bea in the rain.

That being said, the night had been worth it. Mae had found out she could dance. A hot girl flirted with her. And, most importantly, Mae and Bea had gotten closer. That awful night had pushed them together and made them stronger.

All of that being said, of course, Mae was still scared out of her mind. And hungry. Mostly scared, though.

"Hey," Mae said as she and Bea approached the club entrance. "If things go south this time, you get to be the one to run after me on rooftops and shit."

Bea chuckled at that. She'd already lit another cigarette between then and them leaving the car. Mae briefly wondered where Bea was keeping all of these cigarettes. She didn't have a purse on her.

"If that happens, you'll have to wait for a while. I'm not exactly athletic, Borowski."

"Yeah," Mae conceded. "Yeah, you've got, like, twig legs."

Bea didn't comment on that. Instead, she turned her attention towards the club's entrance, where Jackie was waiting for them. Possum Spring's favorite radical hurried over to Bea, pulling her into a tight, friendly hug. Mae stood off to the side, watching s the two got into a conversation.

Instead of listening, Mae scanned the faces of the people who were loitering outside the club. She wondered if she'd catch sight of Bombshell without having to actually go into that basement full of college weirdos.

No such luck.

After a while, Bea and Jackie stopped talking, and Jackie led the two into the club. Mae had to admit, Jackie was good at hiding how much she hated Mae. That had to be an important life skill. If Mae hated someone, she was usually pretty obvious about it.

"So, I want to introduce you to this guy, Bea," Jackie said. Mae had to stop herself from rolling her eyes. Was Jackie, like, some sort of matchmaker?

"You'll like him, I promise. His name's Buck Simmons."

Mae blinked. "I didn't know Buck was an actual name," she whispered to Bea.

Beatrice laughed at that. "Alright, Maeday, time to see if you learned to talk good."

Wow. Bea wanted Mae to play wingman for a dude she hadn't even met? Jackie must have really been a matchmaker.

Jackie led the two out to the edge of the dance floor. A tall guy in a plaid shirt stood in front of the lit-up floor, drinking from a red plastic cup. Mae wasn't sure what to make of him. He was kind of cute, in a really generic way, but he looked like he was trying too hard to be 'college'.

Like, he was what corporations and movie-makers thought a typical college student looked like.

Well, whatever. Mae owed it to Bea to give it her best shot, didn't she? And 'best shot' meant 'don't make fun of his dumb goatee.' Even though it was really, really dumb.

As the trio drew closer, Mae noticed that, for one second, a look of intense worry flashed on Jackie's face.

 _'_ _Yeah, I'm with you, sister. Let's hope I don't blow this,'_ Mae thought.

Jackie moved to Bea's side and put a hand on her shoulder. "Buck, this is my friend Beatrice. Bea, this is Buck."

Buck nodded. "Hi," he said. "I'm Buck."

"I'm Mae!" Mae shouted out, perhaps a bit too loud. Jackie shot her a look, but Buck didn't seem perturbed.

"Yeah, cool," he said. "I'm Buck."

Mae cast a glance at Bea, who seemed to be thinking the exact same thing about Buck's double introduction. Jackie, too, looked a bit confused.

"So, Buck, are you in school?" Bea asked. She spoke slowly, as if she wasn't sure if Buck would understand.

Buck shrugged and took a sip of whatever drink he had in his red, plastic cup. "I guess," he said.

Mae couldn't tell if Buck was shy, stupid, high, or some combination of the three. She subtly looked towards Jackie, who looked back at her. Jackie's confusion over Buck's behavior seemed to equal Mae's own.

It occurred to Mae that this was probably the first time she and Jackie had been in total agreement over something. Neat. This was a friendship moment.

Beatrice, bless her heart, tried to keep the conversation going. "So, uh, what are you studying?"

"Yeah," Buck said, and took another drink.

A few moments of silence passed. Everyone seemed to be waiting to see if Buck would say something else.

Buck continued the trend of being a garbage conversationalist, however, and simply continued to sip from his cup.

"Well," Bea said slowly, hurriedly looking to Jackie and Mae. "Well, Buck, it was nice meeting you, but my friends and I have to… go dance." She began heading towards the dance floor, nervously signaling for them to follow her.

"Yeah," Mae said. "Nice meeting you, dude. Keep on keepin' on."

As much as Mae would have liked to dance, by the time they were halfway across the dance floor, it became clear that Bea had just wanted to get away from Buck. And, I mean, could you blame her?

"Jeez, Jackie, where did you find that guy?" Bea asked. Jackie shrugged, clearly embarrassed.

"He's in my sociology class. I mean, he _seemed_ smart."

"Lots of people _seem_ smart," Mae pointed out. "I mean, I could seem pretty smart if I started talking about, like, dead people or dinosaurs."

"Thanks, Mae," Jackie said with a sigh. "That's really helpful."

Ah, there it was. Jackie didn't have a lot of patience for shenanigans. She never had, even when they were kids. It was a shame. Mae kind of liked Jackie, but sometimes she seemed just too intense.

Well, whatever. If she didn't like her, she didn't like her. No big loss.

Mae searched the crowd once again for Bombshell. While Bea and Jackie talked about sociopaths or whatever, Mae looked at every head of hair, trying to find those violet highlights.

She searched for what felt like minutes (But was actually closer to about 30 seconds), but Mae didn't see any sign of her. That wasn't good. Bombshell was half the reason Mae came down here.

If Mae didn't find her, this night would be a total bust.

Fortunately, there was one person who probably knew where she was. Unfortunately, that person hated her.

Mae tuned back in to Jackie and Bea's conversation, which had moved on to some other thing Mae didn't understand. Since what they were talking about probably wasn't important, Mae decided it was fine to interrupt with her own question.

"Hey, Jackie, can I ask you something?"

Jackie had been midsentence when Mae had spoken up. Both she and Bea seemed a little annoyed, though Bea at least probably expected this sort of thing by now.

"Uh, I don't know if you noticed," Jackie said, "but I was kind of talking to—"

"Yeah, so I'm looking for someone," Mae said. "The last time I was here, there was this really cute girl, and we really hit it off, and I want to see if I can maybe wrestle her."

Jackie blinked. "Is that a… euphemism?"

"No," Bea clarified. "She literally means wrestling. Do you think you could help her out, Jackie?"

Jackie turned to Bea, then to Mae. For once, her usual dislike for Mae had given way to sheer confusion. "Help her… wrestle? Like, a tag team?"

"I mean, if you want to form a tag team, we could," Mae said. "We could probably win the tag team title, I think. I've got a mean suplex."

The music playing shifted to a slower, almost hypnotic dance melody. Although there were at least a dozen people dancing around them, and even more people were chatting to themselves, it seemed almost as if Mae, Bea, and Jackie were inside of their own little world.

"Okay," Jackie said slowly, the strobe lights irregularly highlighting her face. With the lights the way they were, Mae realized for the first time how much Jackie had changed since they were younger.

"Alright, so what does this person look like?"

"She's a bombshell," Mae said.

"I'm going to need something more specific than that," Jackie sighed.

Mae didn't really understand that. She hadn't gotten a good look at anyone else in the club, but none of them were bombshells. Then again, everyone looked attractive in a dark room with pulsing lights.

"Uh, she's around my height, really cute, has, like, purple highlights in—"

"Oh, her?" Jackie asked. "I don't really know her that well. She's just, like, big into clubbing, so sometimes she's here during one of my parties. Not here tonight, though. I didn't see her car."

"She's hot _and_ she has a car?" Mae asked, completely amazed.

Bea chuckled. "Nice. If you two hit it off, you can get someone else to drive you around."

"Well, if she's not here, then that's a bust," Mae sighed. "Oh, well. We can still do party stuff, right, Jackie?"

"It's a party, Mae. 99% of the stuff that's going to happen will be party stuff."

Mae opened her mouth to respond, but someone bumping into her from behind shut her up. Mae was about to spin around and give whoever it was an earful, but an anxious apology quickly silenced her tirade.

"Oh, jeez, sorry," the stranger said. Mae turned, and saw perhaps the most nervous person she'd ever seen. And that was saying something, because Mae had seen herself.

"Sorry," the guy said. He was around Mae's age, maybe a little younger. He was a pretty average, scrawny dude. The only real noticeable detail was his nose, which was bent and crooked. Weird.

What was weirder, though, was that he looked sort of familiar to Mae.

"Oh, hey, Drew," Jackie said calmly. "Mae, Bea, this is Drew. He's… someone's boyfriend. I forget."

"Eli. I'm Eli's boyfriend," Drew said. He immediately looked apologetic for correcting Jackie.

Drew nervously wiped his hands off on his khaki shorts and extended his hand for a handshake. His left hand. He seemed to realize his mistake, and quickly extended his right hand.

"Nice to meet you, Bea," he said as Mae shook his hand.

"Thanks. I'm definitely Bea," Mae said. "I could power a small city with my crankiness."

Drew looked confused, and he looked towards Jackie uncertainly. Jackie made a disgusted sort of sigh, and Drew seemed to get the picture rather quickly.

"I'm Bea," Beatrice said in a long-suffering tone. "That's Mae. She thinks she's funny."

Drew laughed at that. He laughed a little too loud and a little too long. People were staring now. The trio politely waited for Drew's laughter to stop. It took a while.

It took a little while longer for anyone to say something. The four stood in a small little circle of awkwardness. Drew's arms were folded over his chest, his hands stuck in his armpits. Dude didn't want to be here.

Looked like it was up to Mae to get the conversation started.

"So, Drew, what's up with your nose? You, like, a boxer? Or a vigilante?"

"Mae!" Both Jackie and Bea seemed to shout at once. Drew self-consciously moved his hand to his crooked nose in an attempt to cover it.

Crap. That had sounded a lot funnier in Mae's head. Why had she said that? It wasn't something people said. People didn't talk about noses like that. People didn't talk about noses in general.

Well, the best thing to do in this situation was to apologize. Probably.

"That was… not a good thing to say," Mae said. "Sorry. Sometimes I say things and I don't know why."

"Yeah, we all noticed," Jackie grumbled.

"It's fine," Drew said. He slowly moved his hand away from his nose. "Sorry. It's just a thing that happened when I was younger. No big deal; could've been a lot worse."

When he was younger? God, something about all of this felt so weird. It all had Mae, like, on edge.

"Well, it was nice meeting you, Drew," Bea said. She put her hand on Mae's shoulder and pulled her back, almost trying to rescue her from embarrassing herself further.

"Have a good time, Drew," Jackie said. "Have fun, get wasted, whatever."

"Thanks, you too," Drew said hurriedly. He hung around for a few second, and then turned to walk away. In a few moments, he was lost in the crowd of dancing dorks.

* * *

"Well, that night was a bunch of nothing," Mae sighed.

Not a lot had happened after meeting Drew. That was probably a good thing. Mae had felt weird all night, and it was only now, on the car ride home, that she was feeling better.

"It was alright," Bea said. They'd only been in the car for a few minutes, and she already had a lit cigarette out. "It was good practice. You still need a lot of work, though."

"Yeah. I mean, I love parties, but I'm kinda shit at them." Mae laughed sadly. Had she even been to a party where she hadn't made an ass of herself?

Aside from, like, grade-school birthday parties?

No. No, Mae felt like she always wound up humiliating herself. Not just at parties, but at life in general. Parties were just, like, a prime example of Mae's ability to eff things up.

The party in the woods when Mae came home, the party where she'd gone chasing after Bea… hell, senior prom had been a kind of party, and it had definitely been a disaster.

And then there was the party at Possum Leap. The party she wasn't going to think about.

Her first beer. The crappy snacks. Casey's stepdad's truck.

No. Nope. Wasn't going to think about it. No.

Mae quickly tried to think of something else to think about.

"Hey, did that Drew guy seem familiar to you?" She asked.

Bea gave Mae a confused look. It was her 'Where exactly is this coming from?' look. Mae got looks like that from people all the time. She didn't always get why, which she realized probably wasn't a great sign.

Beatrice turned her attention back to the empty stretch of highway before them as she considered Mae's question. "Hard to say," she said. "You've got a better memory for, like, names and faces and shit. I guess I might have seen him at a party before."

"Do you think he went to school with us?" Mae asked. She just couldn't really shake this feeling, and it was starting to freak her out a little.

Bea didn't seem to share Mae's fears. "No, he's from Briddle, I think," she said. "And I don't really remember going to school with anyone named Andrew."

Mae blinked. "Andrew?" She asked.

"Yes, Mae. Andrew. The long form of Drew. Names can be shortened."

"Weird," Mae said. "Like, when you first hear someone's name, you just assume that's their name, you know? Feels weird to…"

Mae felt the world start to spin. It was a familiar feeling. She hadn't felt it since that night in November, right before she and her friends found out the truth about their town. Mae's mind seemed to be thinking things too fast for her to keep up, and the world refused to keep pace.

"Mae?" Bea asked. Then, with growing concern, "Mae?!"

The car screeched to a halt along the side of the empty country road. Mae breathed in and out harder than she could ever remember breathing. She'd already figured out what was wrong. But she couldn't quite find the words for it. After all, the odds weren't likely, were they? This could only happen if Mae had been, like, hexed by some sort of hateful witch.

"Mae, are you okay?!"

Bea sounded terrified. More than that, it seemed like she was panicking. That brought Mae back a little. She didn't want her friend to worry. Sure, Mae was having a terrible panic attack and it felt like she was falling into a deep, dark hole, but why make your friend worry?

Mae Borowski took in a deep breath, found her words, and said the only thing that came to mind.

"Andy."

Bea stared at Mae in confusion. Realization began to dawn on her gothy, eyeshadowed face. Poor, sweet Beatrice. Sweet, innocent Beatrice who'd never beaten a kid's face in with a softball bat.

"You think that was him?" Bea didn't sound disbelieving. She sounded shocked. Mae didn't blame her; she was shocked.

"Beatrice," Mae said. "I am one million percent sure that was Andy Cullen."


	3. Born to Lose

"You really think it was him?"

The old Birthday Zone of the Party Barn was the same as it always was: dusty, quiet, and littered with birthday streamers. Mae and Gregg had been the first to arrive, like usual, and the two best friends sat alone on their makeshift stage.

"I mean, I didn't really get a good look at him the last time I saw him, but he looks like what I remembered," Mae sighed. "Only, you know, not bleeding and crying."

Gregg was acting like Beatrice had when Mae told her about this; surprised, but not entirely disbelieving. Mae kind of liked having her friends believe her. Then again, running into someone from an old softball game was a lot more likely than 'Oh, hey, ghosts.'

Not that ghosts were impossible. In fact, in Mae's opinion, they were very possible. The possiblest.

"That sounds like a pretty garbage night," Gregg said consolingly.

"And the worst part is I didn't even see Bombshell!" Mae blurted.

"Oh!" Gregg said. "Uh, yeah, I guess that's… worse?" He blinked in confusion. Mae realized almost immediately that Gregg wouldn't really be able to get this. He'd been dating Angus for years, after all. He probably didn't know remember anxious seeking out someone you were into was.

"I mean, on the plus side, Jackie didn't, like, blow up at me or anything," Mae began.

"Jackie's cool," Gregg interrupted. "She's really intense."

Wait. Gregg knew Jackie? Well, Mae thought, everyone in Possum Springs probably knew at least a little bit about Jackie. It was a small town, and she'd been big news.

"I guess," Mae sighed. "Whatever. Yeah, it was a garbage night."

"Throw that night in the garbage can, where it lives," Gregg said.

"I saw a raccoon living in a garbage can once," a voice said.

Mae nearly jumped out of her skin when she heard it. She knew who it was, of course, but she hadn't seen him where he was standing. He was partially obscured by one of the Party Barn's support beams. It didn't look like he was trying to hide; it was just where he'd chosen to stand.

"Oh, hey, Germ," Gregg said to their visitor. He didn't seem as freaked out as Mae.

"Hey," Germ said, stepping out from behind the pillar. He walked up to the stage, hands in his jacket's pockets.

Mae frowned. Honestly, if Germ hadn't saved their lives and given them sodas, she'd have been a little mad at the little weirdo. As it was, she was merely perturbed. Not that Mae new what 'perturbed' meant.

The scraping sound of the rear door opening filled the room, and was followed by a pair of voices talking to each other.

"Yeah, he's coming home in a few weeks, so I've gotta visit her."

"You really should talk to him about that, Angus. You'd think he'd understand."

Beatrice and Angus stepped into the Birthday Zone. Neither of them was smiling. None of them were smiling. Well, Germ never emoted much, but for the rest of them, it was clear they were all kinda moody.

Gregg, at least, perked up when he saw Angus. "Hey, Cap," he said. "How was work?"

"Someone came in trying to sell 'cursed video tapes'," Angus said.

"Holy shit," Mae said, amazed. "Where'd they get them? A warlock flea market?"

"Those aren't a thing, so no." Angus responded. "And they were just old jazzercise tapes from the 90's."

"Jazzercise is a type of curse," Bea said.

Mae found herself laughing at that, despite feeling down. When she heard her laugh, Bea looked over at her, concerned. It made Mae feel weird. Why the heck did Beatrice have to be such a Mom Friend? Jeez, Bea.

"You feeling any better?" Beatrice asked. "After last night, I mean."

"Ugh. I guess," Mae sighed. "I dunno. Like, how am I even supposed to feel? He clearly didn't recognize me. Which is weird. I mean, you'd think what happened would be pretty memorable. Should I feel good that he didn't know who I am? Because I don't."

"Wait," Angus said. "Who are we talking about?"

Mae filled Angus in. All about how, the night before, she'd gone to a party, had the world's worst conversation, didn't see the world's hottest Bombshell, and also ran into the kid who she'd put in the hospital.

"Wow," Angus said. "That sounds like a garbage night, Mae."

"Hey, that's what I said!" Gregg exclaimed. His expression got all mushy. "Awww, Cap'n."

Angus chuckled, but it seemed like he had a lot on his mind, as well. Whatever. Mae could ask when they were done playing. If they actually got around to playing, that is. Lately, band practice had become a support group for death cult survivors.

Only, like, occasionally the support group played a song.

"Alright, chief," Mae said, turning her attention back to Gregg. "What are we playing?"

Gregg seemed to snap back to reality. The boring version of reality that didn't involve gushing over his boyfriend. He fidgeted, and soon pulled out an old, worn spiral notebook that he'd been sitting on. Written on the cover, in black magic marker, was 'CAMG'.

"Holy shit, dude," Mae said. "Where'd you find that?"

"It was under one of our couch cushions," Angus explained. "No clue how it got there."

"I think I stashed it under there once during one of our post-band jam pizza parties," Gregg said. He passed the old notebook to Mae, who began leafing through its pages.

"What is that thing, anyway?" Bea asked. "What's it say on the front?"

"Casey, Angus, Mae, Gregg. This is our old songbook," Gregg said. He was positively beaming, and he probably would have been flailing his arms if he wasn't sitting down. "From back when we started the band in, like, 11th grade. It's got all of our old songs in it."

Mae flipped through the pages, feeling the worn paper between her fingers. Different pages were marked with post-it notes. Originally, they each had tried to use a different colored note for their individual songs, but after the great Post-It Note War, they'd just all started using Angus's blue ones.

Mae could still remember them trading this book around every few days. It tended to spend most of its time with Gregg or Casey, but Mae had written a few songs herself. She flipped to one of the red post-it notes, and found herself looking at one of her old songs.

She then promptly flipped the page, because it was the song that should not be named. Ever.

The song after hers, however, was one she didn't recognize. Mae didn't think they'd ever played this one. It was written in Casey's scratchy handwriting, lyrics accompanied by simple notes. The song's title was written up in the header:

'BORN TO LOSE.'

 _I don't know where I've come from_

 _Don't know where I'll be_

 _I see these folks living their lives_

 _Every night on the TV_

 _Me, I've got no life to live_

 _So tell me what you'd see_

 _If I gave it all I've got to give_

 _And you said goodbye to me_

It took Mae a bit to really wrap her head around this. Casey had never been poetic, but he'd been pretty good at writing lyrics. And these were definitely lyrics from a Casey song. All of Casey's songs were like this, unless they were about skatboards or monster trucks. But even those songs were kind of downers.

"This is really sad," Mae mused.

"Yeah, it's pretty beat up," Gregg said. "I must've sat on it, like, a million times."

"No, I mean this song," Mae grumbled. "You sitting on something isn't sad, Gregg. Your butt isn't sad."

Gregg only gave Mae a blank look, but the bassist returned her attention to the song. The more lyrics she read, the more she started to realize something.

"Guys, we have to play this," she said. "This thing is like a memento from Casey."

That got Gregg's attention. "It's definitely a Casey song," He said, reading over Mae's shoulder. "Scratch that. It's a high school Casey song. He wasn't that great at music back then."

Gregg pointed at something written in the margin of the notes. "See? Right here, it says 'the big solo.' What's that even mean? Whose solo?"

"Probably a drum solo," Angus said. "Casey liked to show off."

Hearing Casey being talked about in the past tense like that made Mae feel awful. Lately, her dreams had been especially bad. The fire, the stars, the Casey; they were all getting more and more vivid. Almost like it was real.

 _"_ _Hey, for all you know, I am real."_

"Oh, shut up," Mae grumbled. She tried to ignore the strange looks her friends gave her.

* * *

The band jam had gone pretty smoothly once they'd deciphered Casey's handwriting. The melody had been simple, but then again, it had been written back when they were just starting out and only knew, like, four notes. On the plus side, it had been pretty hard to screw up.

After they had practiced, everyone was more or less free. They'd all decided to head on out to Taco Buck for dinner afterwards. That was fine with Mae; Taco Buck was delicious, and it was cheap enough that she didn't feel bad about her friends paying for it.

Germ had tagged along. He hadn't asked or anything; he'd just sort of followed them. Mae was kind of used to that by now.

"My jacket still smells like barf," Gregg said as he chowed down on the limited edition pierogi taco.

"It's hard to clean barf out of a leather jacket," Angus commented.

"I have no idea what you guys are talking about, but can you not talk about it when I am literally eating?" Bea asked.

"They're not talking about anything," Mae said. "They're crazy liars." She hurriedly took a bite out of her pizza taco.

"I can't believe you'd attack our character like this," Gregg said, raising his hand to his mouth in fake shock.

Angus defensively put his arm around Gregg, as if to protect him from Mae's words. "This slander shall not stand," he said, his tone as deadpan as always.

That brought a small round of chuckles out of the assorted friends.

A moment of silence passed before someone finally spoke. When they did, Mae almost wished they hadn't.

"So, it turns out that moving is kind of really hard," Gregg said, his mouth full of onions and taco meats.

Mae felt a weight in her stomach. That might have been the pizza taco, though.

"Do you guys, like, have an apartment picked out?" Bea asked. She seemed fine with this sort of talk. Well, Mae thought, Bea was kind of tough. Even if she was sad they were moving, she probably wouldn't show it.

Mae looked over at Germ to see if he was okay with this talk of moving and Bright Harbor. Germ, as always, seemed unperturbed (Again, a word Mae barely knew). He was busy just shoveling corn chips down his throat. Just, really going at them. Wow.

"We're heading down there in a couple of weeks to check places out," Angus said. "Should be fun."

"I'm totally gonna learn to surf!" Gregg yelled excitedly. "It's gonna be so cool, guys. God, I can't believe we're already so close."

"Yeah, me either," Mae muttered. She solemnly took another bite of her pizza taco.

It tasted like sadness and crispy cheese.

* * *

After dinner, the gang said their goodbyes, and it was time to head home. As always, the walk home from Taco Buck was a journey of self-discovery and upset stomachs. Mae really needed to stop eating enough food for, like, four people.

Eh. Maybe later.

 _"_ _It really sucks that I died before I got a chance to eat at the taco place."_

"Oh, god, just shut up," Mae whispered under her breath. This late, the streets were fairly empty. Even so, Mae didn't want to risk being heard.

She wasn't even sure when she'd started hearing Casey when she was awake. It had just happened. He hadn't even started out as a voice, so much as an idea. And even now, he was just the idea of a voice.

It occurred to Mae that hearing the voice of your dead friend inside of your head probably wasn't a good sign. Oh, well. She had an appointment with Dr. Feldman in a few days; she'd talk about it then.

 _"_ _You're not gonna talk about it. You're not gonna talk about anything. You'll clam up."_

"God, you're not even real," Mae grumbled. "You're just, like, stress, or guilt, or whatever. Or maybe I'm going nuts. I was already heading down that road. You know, with all of my brain problems."

 _"_ _You should, like, not ever go outside again. You might see Andy again, and then it'd be weird."_

"I am going to drive a drill through my skull and into your imaginary face," Mae snarled. "I don't care if you're real or not. You, face, drill."

"What?"

Mae froze when she heard the voice. She hadn't been paying attention, and hadn't seen Selmers sitting out on her front porch. The older woman was staring at Mae, who did her best to hide her embarrassment.

"You okay, Mae?" Selmers asked. "You were, like, mumbling to yourself."

Mae sighed. "Yeah. Just… tired. Really, really tired."

"You say that you're tired a lot," Selmers pointed out. "How much sleep are you getting?"

"I dunno. Ten, eleven hours?"

"Oh," Selmers said. "So, sleep isn't the main problem, I guess."

Mae wandered over to Selmers' front steps and took a seat beside her. Selmers didn't seem bothered by this. She'd always been laid back and cool, even when Mae was a kid. Almost a big sister, kinda.

"Lately, I can't stop thinking about all of my screw ups," Mae said. "Something big happened to me last year, and I kinda thought that it would, like, change the way I look at things. But I guess even if it did, the stuff that's happened still happened."

"I'm not sure I follow," Selmers said. "What kinds of screw ups are you thinking about? I think we all, like, think about our mistakes sometimes."

"I'm talking about the big screw up," Mae explained.

"Oh," Selmers said. She evidently didn't need to ask any more questions. Even if she hadn't been there during the softball incident, it was a small town, and news traveled fast.

"You know," Selmers said, "and I don't know if this will help, but a buddy of mine from the program said that, in AA, they've got a thing called making amends."

"I don't think I should join AA. I don't really drink," Mae said. "My dad used to go to meetings, and he got, like, a bunch of medals or something. For not doing beer."

"That's cool," Selmers said. "Medals are cool.

"But, anyway, if you feel like you've made some serious screw ups, you could try that whole making amends thing. Like, try and make it right with the people you've hurt. Or something. I dunno. I'm sleepy."

The idea was scary. Apologize to people she'd hurt? Aside from Andy, there were lots of people that Mae would need to make amends with.

At the same time, though, the idea sounded really good. Mae had no clue how well it could possibly work out, but at the very least, it would provide some closure. Right?

"Selmers," Mae said, "you give really good advice."

"Thanks," Selmers said. "I'm wise beyond my years."

* * *

 _That night, in her dreams, Mae visited the fire again._

 _She had been thinking about the party again, so it made sense. Mae usually tried to not think about the Possum Leap party, but her idea of making amends had gotten her thinking about it._

 _She couldn't just start off with apologizing to Andy. The next party wasn't for, like, a month. Or so Mae assumed._

 _So, it would make sense to start making amends around town. There were probably a lot of people in Possum Springs that Mae needed to apologize to._

 _"_ _Like who?" Casey asked. "The pierogi guy? Mr. Penderson?"_

 _Mae scoffed. "No, those guys are jerks. All I did was, like, steal or vandalize those guys. I'm talking about people I actually hurt."_

 _"_ _Like me, when you threw a softball at my head?"_

 _"_ _No," Mae said. "You agreed to that. Besides, the Frisbee you threw hurt a lot more than some dumb baseball."_

 _"_ _Do you think my parents still put up posters?" The Dream Casey asked. "A lot of posters been going up lately. Those folks in the mine had friends and family."_

 _"_ _Shut up," Mae grumbled. She didn't want to think about this. Not that the Dream Casey was giving her much of an option. "It's not my fault. Those guys were assholes. I'm not upset that they're probably dead."_

 _"_ _People still miss them, though. People don't know what they did, who they were. We all die cold, alone, and in a hole." The Dream Casey popped what looked like a marshmallow into his mouth. Mae couldn't really tell what it had been; everything was blurry today._

 _"_ _That's inspiring," Mae muttered. "You got a lot more cryptic when you became a ghost, you know that?"_

 _"_ _Yeah, I'm, like, spooky, and shit," Casey said. "Assuming I even am a ghost, that is. You might just be going nuts with your guilt."_

 _Mae said nothing. Why bother arguing in a dream? What would that possibly accomplish? In every dream Mae had ever happened, everything felt like it wouldn't change. Events just happened. It was scary._

 _"_ _You should go steal my boat," Casey said, "and, you know, live in it. Like a boat hobo."_

 _Mae frowned. "Casey, I don't even know what you did with your boat. And I'm not going to live in it; it probably can't fit a mattress."_

 _"_ _You're sleeping on your arm," Casey argued. "You ate too many tacos and your stomach is upset."_

 _That was all true, but Mae didn't think it would make her more likely to live in a boat. "I like it better when you're being spooky and guilt-trippy."_

 _"_ _Lumpy pillow!" Casey screamed._

 _And he was right. The pillow was lumpy._


	4. That Party We're Not Gonna Think About

Mae's next appointment with Dr. Feldman came at the perfect time. She'd had a pretty crazy weekend, and was still dealing with the fallout. She'd kind of made a fool of herself, and felt like she had a lot to get off her chest.

Still, when Mae sat down across from Dr. Feldman, she wasn't sure how much she could say. She guessed she could stick to the important details. No reason to tell her therapist everything, right?

As long as Mae didn't mention what she'd done, she'd be good.

"So," Dr. Feldman said. "Do anything interesting since our last appointment?"

"I didn't smoke weed," Mae blurted out.

Smooth.

Dr. Feldman scribbled something down in his notes. He looked fairly surprised by what Mae had said. Hell, who wouldn't be?

"Okay. That's… interesting. What made you want to try marijuana?"

Mae couldn't help feeling sort of surprised. "Wait, you're not gonna chew me out?"

"Mae, I'm your therapist, not your dad," Dr. Feldman said. "If you'd done a more serious drug, I might be upset, but you're a young adult. Young adults… tend to experiment with certain substances."

"Oh. Right." Mae chuckled. "Well, I mean… it's sort of a long story."

Dr. Feldman took a look at his wristwatch. Who wore wristwatches anymore? Didn't people just use phones? Dr. Feldman lived somewhere with reception. Shouldn't he own a phone? Or maybe it was like a fashion thing. Or maybe Dr. Feldman had some sort of secret weapon hidden in his watch!

Wait. No. Focus.

"We're here for a whole hour," Feldman said. "We have time, if you want to talk."

Mae sighed. She guessed, now that it was out in the open, she had to tell him. Besides, if she wound up getting addicted to marijuana and overdosing, it would be important for someone to know, right?

"Okay… So, I was hanging out with Gregg and Angus. We were looking for someone I wanted to talk to…"

* * *

When Mae had first told Angus and Gregg about her plan to start making amends, she got mixed reactions. Neither of them knew whether this was a good idea, or just one of Mae's regular ideas. Neither of them shot her down, though, so that was a good sign.

Apologizing was good, right? It was, like, polite and stuff.

They'd been in Gregg and Angus's apartment when she had laid out her plans. Mae had huddled up into one corner of their couch, while Gregg and Angus were pressed together at the other end. The boyfriends exchanged a confused look when Mae was done.

"So, like," Gregg said slowly, "you're gonna just, like, apologize to people you messed with?"

"No, no," Mae said. "If I tried to apologize to everyone I've messed with, I'd be doing this for, like, 80 years. I'd be a corpse when I finished. An apologetic corpse. No, I'm just going to apologize to people I seriously hurt."

"Like the dudes we buried?" Gregg asked.

Mae winced. "Gregg, it's been a few months. I think it's a little late to apologize to those guys."

"Good thing, too," Angus muttered. He looked bashful when his comment was met with concerned looks. "Sorry. Please continue."

"Who're you gonna make it up to first?" Gregg asked. "Cole?"

Mae felt herself gag a little at the mention of that name. Just the memory of that night made her feel sick. She hadn't been able to eat candied almonds since then.

"No. I'm nowhere near ready to go down that rabbit hole," Mae sighed. "No, I thought I'd start with, like, Levy."

Silence. Angus and Gregg stared in confusion at Mae.

"Levy?" Angus repeated. "The burnt out guy?"

"Yeah," Mae said. She pondered Angus's words for a moment. "Wait, how do you know Levy?"

"Remember when I said that we tried weed a while back?" Gregg asked, gesturing to himself and Angus. "We got it from Levy. He's got, like, a hookup."

Mae's eyes widened in shock at Gregg's words. "Holy shit," she said. "Levy's a drug dealer?"

Back in high school, Levy had been the local burn out. Pretty much everyone knew he was on drugs. He'd gotten in trouble for it once or twice, if Mae remembered. He was a pretty mellow guy, though. The idea of him becoming a hardened criminal was such a turnaround it scared Mae.

"Uh, no," Angus sad. "He just hangs out behind the Food Donkey smoking pot. He gave Gregg a couple of joints in exchange for a bag of pretzels."

"Oh, okay," Mae said. "Yeah, that sounds more like Levy."

"Why do you need to apologize to Levy?" Angus asked. "I didn't think you really knew him."

"I don't, really," Mae sighed. "But I kinda screwed him over once back in high school. It's not something I like to think about. It was really embarrassing."

"Whoa, dude," Gregg said. "What happened?"

Mae didn't want to talk about this. She really didn't. But she needed to confront her past if she was going to do this whole 'making amends' thing. Besides, Gregg and Angus were practically family. If she couldn't tell them about this, who could she tell?

"Okay," she said. "Do you guys remember that one party up by Possum Leap?"

* * *

 _"_ _Oh, god, this is gonna be so sick," Mae said excitedly._

 _Gregg, Angus, Mae, and Casey were all piled into an old, red pickup truck. It was Casey's stepdad's, and it smelled like an old basement. Still, it was cool that Casey was allowed to drive it. Between his stepdad's truck and his boat, Casey was, like, the group transport._

 _"_ _Yeah, I guess," Angus muttered. Gregg laughed and gave his boyfriend a squeeze on the arm._

 _"_ _It'll be great, dude!" Gregg exclaimed._

 _"_ _Yeah, this is, like, your first party with us, ain't it, big guy?" Casey asked, looking at Angus through the rearview._

 _The big guy nodded. Despite being in a band with him, Mae felt like she didn't know Angus all that well. She'd helped motivate Gregg to ask him out, but aside from that, there wasn't much there. Still, he was a nice, cool guy, so Mae was glad to have him along._

 _"_ _Alright, my stepdad said we gotta be back by midnight," Casey said, "so, like, don't get distracted by beer, or sex, or whatever."_

 _"_ _Why're you telling us not to get distracted by sex?" Mae asked. "You're the one who can't keep it in his pants."_

 _Casey rolled his eyes. "Don't go around commenting on my lifestyle, Margaret. Besides, between the lovebirds back there, and you and Cole, I'm the one least likely to get up to anything tonight."_

 _"_ _Dude, Cole and I haven't even kissed or anything," Mae said. So far, her 'relationship' with Cole mostly consisted of playing video games and eating pizza. Not that Mae was complaining. She had fun with Cole._

 _Besides, prom was a few months away, and they'd probably kiss then. That didn't seem like something that was easy to mess up._

 _"_ _I sincerely doubt that Gregg and I will get up to anything in the woods, either," Angus said._

 _"_ _Yeah, Casey, that just leaves you," Gregg laughed. "You're totally gonna do some stuff in the woods. I hope a crazy slasher comes out and chops you up."_

 _"_ _I hope the slasher comes after you next," Mae said, not missing a beat._

 _Casey smirked. "I hope the police show up and mistake you for the slasher and fill you with lead," he said to Mae._

 _"_ _You guys are weird," Angus said, laughing good-naturedly._

* * *

"Er, Mae?" Dr. Feldman asked.

"Yeah?" Mae said. "What's up, doc?"

"We seem to have gotten off-track," Feldman said. "You were telling me about why you smoked weed, but now you're describing a party you went to in high school?"

"Yeah," Mae said. "It's called nested storytelling. It's a narrative device."

Dr. Feldman looked as if he wasn't sure what to say to that. "Okay, but we're in the middle of a therapy session, so—"

"It's. Good. Storytelling." Mae said. "We're getting to the main part anyway. It won't take long."

Dr. Feldman sighed. "Okay, but if I wind up missing my next appointment because of this story, I'm going to start intentionally giving you bad advice."

"Deal," Mae said. "So, anyway…"

* * *

 _The party hadn't exactly gotten off to a good start._

 _For one thing, Mae hadn't realized that it was being held up near the creepy war monument up by Possum Leap. Mae had always hated that statue; its eyes were always following her around._

 _Casey had parked his truck on the hill at the edge of where the party was being held. A small fire was already roaring, and a few overturned logs formed a sitting circle around it. A few kids were gathered around a keg of beer that had been set up on a table._

 _"_ _Holy shit," Mae mused. "They're doing beer?"_

 _"_ _Uh… yeah?" Casey responded. "We're seniors, Mae. We drink beer. Well, I mean, I've gotta drive, but everyone else is drinking beer."_

 _"_ _I think I'll skip the beer," Angus said as he and Gregg joined their friends. "I don't wanna go home smelling like beer."_

 _"_ _Message received, Cap'n," Gregg said, taking Angus's hand. "Come on, let's go chill by the fire. We can see if some douchebag's busted out a guitar yet."_

 _Gregg excitedly led Angus towards the sitting circle. The big guy seemed to be struggling to keep up. It was kinda adorable._

 _Mae wasn't sure how she felt about the whole 'beer' thing. On the one hand, from her dad's experience with alcohol, Mae was hesitant to give it a try. On the other hand, alcohol could really eff you up, and Mae was all about that._

 _Plus, it'd piss off Aunt Mall Cop if she ever found out._

 _The pros far outweighed the cons. Mae made a beeline towards the keg of beer, leaving Casey to wait by the truck. Thankfully, the crowd around the beer wasn't too big, so Mae was able to pretty easily make her way through._

 _"_ _Stand aside, citizens," Mae said. "I'm gonna beer it up."_

 _Mae took one of the red plastic cups from beside the keg. It took her an embarrassingly long time to figure out how to get the beer out, but once she did, she filled up. The beer was all bubbly, and looked like hobo pee._

 _Now that she actually had the drink, though, Mae wasn't sure what to do. She looked over to the nearest person with a cup. She vaguely recognized him as the football guy who'd gotten Cathy Daminco pregnant._

 _"_ _Hey, footboy," Mae said. Somehow, this actually got his attention. "How do I do this?" She waved the plastic cup in his face._

 _The football guy stared, baffled, at Mae for a second. "You drink it?" He said slowly. "Thought that would've been obvious."_

 _"_ _Okay, okay, chill out, dude," Mae said. "Just wanna make sure I do it right." Mae lifted the cup to her lips and took a good, long sip._

 _She immediately regretted it._

 _It tasted like… like… Mae had no idea what to compare it to. She'd had food that had been cooked with alcohol, and this was, like, that times a thousand. She only managed to swallow about half of it before she spat it out._

 _A flurry of yellow mist erupted from Mae's mouth as she spat out what she hadn't swallowed. Mae felt herself beginning to retch. Her throat was on fire. Some of the beer had dribbled down onto her shirt. Ugh. It was going to stink of beer until her next laundry day._

 _And who knew when that was going to be?_

 _It took Mae a few seconds of disgusted retching to realize that she'd spat the beer all over the football man. He did not look happy. At all. Then again, Mae didn't know him that well. Maybe he expressed happiness by snarling._

 _"_ _What the actual eff, dude?!" He screamed._

 _Mae groaned, wiping beer off of her chin as she regained her composure. "In my defense," Mae said, "you should have warned me how garbage that stuff tasted." She gradually began to realize that the eyes of everyone at the party were on her and the football dude._

 _"_ _You couldn't have turned your head, like, a little to the left?!" The football fellow asked. "What the eff is wrong with you?"_

 _Mae chuckled nervously. The chatter of the people around them had died down, and all attention was honed in on the two beer buddies. While the football sir tried wiping his face off with his shirt, a few people began muttering to each other._

 _Unfortunately, Mae heard them._

 _"_ _Isn't that Borowski?" One voice asked._

 _"_ _Dude, holy shit, yeah," someone else said. "Aw, man, she's gonna beat the shit out of Ron."_

 _As much as Ron might have deserved to have his shit beaten out of him, Mae wasn't going to do it. She didn't want people in town thinking she was crazier than they already did. Plus, Mae didn't even have a bat or anything. Oh, and also, beating people up was wrong or something, whatever._

 _"_ _I'm gonna… go…" Mae said. She set her plastic cup down next to the keg of beer and hurriedly stepped away. She left Ron standing there, fuming and asking if anyone had some paper towels._

 _While everyone was focused on Ron, Mae made her way back to where Casey's truck had been parked. She needed to hide away for a bit; at least until everyone's attention died down. Mae reached out and tested the passenger door on the old, red truck._

 _Casey had left it unlocked. Thank crap. Mae pulled the door open, pulled herself into the seat, and slammed the door shut. A long sigh of relief escaped her._

 _"_ _Dude, you smell like beer."_

 _Mae screamed and flailed in her seat. She hadn't noticed Casey sitting in the driver's seat. Maybe that was because he was wearing his old camo hoodie. Ha, jokes. No, but seriously, Mae had been terrified._

 _"_ _Dude, what the hell are you doing here?!" She asked._

 _"_ _I mean, it's my truck," Casey pointed out. "Well, it's basically mine. What are you doing here?"_

 _Mae sighed. "Hiding from my shame."_

 _"_ _Oh, crap," Casey said. "Your shirt didn't catch on fire again, did it?"_

 _"_ _I'm still wearing my shirt, so no," Mae said. "I spat a mouthful of beer onto Ron… uh… Ron Footballman."_

 _"_ _Oh, Ron Boonstra?" Casey asked. "Good. The guy's kind of a douche. You heard about what happened with him and Cathy, right?"_

 _"_ _Yeah," Mae chuckled. "I was at Fort Lucenne when she ripped out Cindy's nose ring."_

 _Casey winced. "Oh, God. I didn't know about that part. Poor Cindy."_

 _"_ _Poor both of them," Mae sighed._

 _Silence fell on the two of them. They watched through the windshield as the party continued without them. People were talking, kissing, snacking. Mae could see Gregg and Angus cuddled up on one of the logs by the fire._

 _"_ _Doesn't look like Cole's here," Mae mused. Gregg turned his head to look at her._

 _"_ _Well, you told him about this party, right?" He asked._

 _Mae shrugged, embarrassed. "I figured he'd have heard about it. He's a popular guy, right?"_

 _"_ _I guess," Casey said with a shrug. "You know him better than I do, Mae."_

 _That she did. Mae also knew that Cole was a bit of a nerd. He was probably studying, like, Latin, or books about popes, or something. They were kind of exact opposites when it came to studying._

 _It still kind of boggled Mae's mind that Cole was into her. He knew about the softball incident, knew she looked the way she looked, and had still come up to her and said he liked her. They weren't exactly boyfriend and girlfriend, but it was still nice._

 _Mae certainly couldn't see anything going wrong in their relationship, particularly with prom coming up. Yup. Prom would probably be great. Absolutely great._

 _Casey was fairly quiet. He seemed absorbed in his thoughts. Mae didn't exactly like that. Casey was normally a pretty energetic, social guy; not the type to lock himself in a truck while a party was going on._

 _"_ _Uh," Mae said, struggling to start a conversation. "Did you hear about the sinkhole out by Arbor Street?"_

 _Casey chuckled. "This whole town is a sinkhole," he said._

 _"_ _Well, that's depressing," Mae mused._

 _"_ _Sorry," Casey said. "I've just been thinking. Like, prom's coming up. And, after that, there'll be graduation. But what then?"_

 _"_ _I'll probably go to college," Mae said. "I mean, hopefully. Fingers crossed."_

 _"_ _Yeah, but that's you, Mae," Casey said with a sigh. "Your parents've been saving up forever to put you through college. My dad, though? He wasn't really concerned too much about my future. After he died, it was too late to save up for college. I don't have any options."_

 _He paused. "I'm stuck in this town."_

 _Mae wasn't sure what to say to that. She wasn't great with, like, words and stuff. She knew Casey hated Possum Springs; he'd hated it for years. But Mae couldn't really relate. Possum Springs was home._

 _She couldn't go anywhere else. Whenever she did, it was just all…_

 _No. Now wasn't the time to think about that._

 _"_ _You're not stuck," Mae pointed out. "You could totally leave if you wanted to, Casey."_

 _"_ _I mean, I could hop a train," Casey mused. "I'll probably wind up doing that one day. But it ain't exactly practical, Mae. Plus… I dunno if I could just up and leave my mom, you know?"_

 _"_ _You, could, like," Mae briefly considered Casey's options. "Play drums on the sidewalk for money. Or you could seduce a rich widow."_

 _Casey just laughed. He turned back to look out the windshield, at the party still unfolding. Mae joined him, enjoying the quiet. She still smelled like beer._

 _Mae wasn't sure how much time passed. It couldn't have been more than a few minutes. But, after a while, Mae started to hear something. It sounded like voices. The truck rocked a bit, and Mae looked around, confused._

 _Casey merely looked up at the rearview mirror. A chuckle escaped him, and he pointed to the reflection of two people huddled together in the truck's cargo bed._

 _"_ _Lookit that," he whispered. "Got a couple of love birds making out."_

 _Mae groaned. This sort of thing was awkward. Even though it was dark, Mae could kind of make out who it was; Levy and Beth Holstead. She knew them vaguely as two of the only people who bothered to socialize with Steve Effing Scriggins._

 _When she studied the reflection for a bit longer, though, she realized something._

 _"_ _Hey, Casey?"_

 _"_ _Yeah?"_

 _"_ _I, uh… I don't think they're just making out."_

 _Casey looked first at the rearview mirror, then over his shoulder at the cargo bed. A few seconds of silent horror passed between the two friends._

 _Quickly, Mae and Casey scrambled to get out of the truck. The truck was beginning to rock slightly, now, and that only increased the urgency to get out. Mae fumbled with the door handle before she finally pushed it open and tumbled out. As she fell out, she felt her leg bump up against something._

 _"_ _Oh god sorry guys keep doing what you're doing bye," She said hastily as she ran towards the party. Casey was right behind her. Naturally, the two made so much noise that soon all eyes were on them._

 _For the second time that night, Mae was the center of attention. Great._

 _"_ _Whoa," Gregg said, getting off of his seat and walking over to them, "are you guys okay?"_

 _"_ _Did you see a bear or something?" Angus asked, following behind Gregg._

 _"_ _I'm still upset about the beer thing," Ron added helpfully._

 _"_ _I'm fine," Mae said, panting a bit. "We're fine. We're both good."_

 _Then, without thinking, she added: "Levy's having sex in the back of Casey's truck."_

 _Silence fell on the party. The only noise was the sound of the fire roaring, its light cast over all of the party teens. That, and the sound of Casey's truck rocking on its suspension._

 _It was Ron who broke the silence. "Oh, effing hell," he muttered. "I knew I shouldn't have brought him here. Sorry, Hartley."_

 _Casey shrugged. Unlike Mae, he was done catching his breath. "No problem," he said. "But if they leave a mess, they're cleaning it up. I'm not gonna explain that to my stepdad."_

 _A few people laughed. That eased the mood a bit. For the first time that night, Mae felt relaxed. The party was finally, like, a party. Mae could finally just chill out and have some fun with her friends. Or so she thought._

 _That hopeful idea was soon dashed when Angus spoke up._

 _"_ _Casey, your truck is moving."_

 _Everything that happened next seemed to happen in slow motion. Mae and Casey exchanged a quick look before turning. Everyone else's eyes were already on the truck, so they were the last ones to see it rolling backwards down the hill._

 _Casey yelled something. Mae wasn't sure what it was; she figured it was some language he'd picked up from his bio-dad. He went chasing after the truck as it rolled away._

 _Thankfully, it wasn't a steep hill. The truck eventually came to a stop at the edge of a small creek._

 _A sudden stop._

 _A handful of the partygoers rushed to the edge of the hill. What they saw was something that would be joked about for the rest of the school year._

 _The rear flappy thing on the truck had been flung open, and the bed's cargo had rolled out into the creek. Beth Holstead was sitting up in the creek, her hoodie pulled over her. From the look on her face, she was too out of it to realize what had happened._

 _Levy, meanwhile, was face down in the creek. His pants and underwear were down around his ankles, and his butt was up in the air in the way that reminded Mae of a dog that was excited to play fetch._

 _Casey was scrambling to check if the two burnouts were okay. As he helped Levy sit up—the poor guy looked dazed, but not as burnt out as usual—the first chuckles began to emerge from the assembled onlookers._

 _The rest of the group was in stunned silence, but one or two were laughing quietly. No one had gotten hurt. Casey's truck seemed okay. Why shouldn't they laugh?_

 _Mae just stared. There wasn't much else she could do._

* * *

When Mae was finished telling her story to Gregg and Angus, she was met with confused silence.

"Mae, I don't see what that has to do with you," Angus pointed out. Gregg merely nodded in agreement.

"Guys, I've replayed that night in my head, like, a dozen times," Mae explained. "And I'm pretty sure that I, like, bumped into the parking thing when I got out of the truck."

"The parking brake?" Angus asked. "Wait, is that why the truck moved?"

"I always just assumed that they'd been rocking it too hard," Gregg said. "But I have a hard time picturing Levy putting that much energy into anything…"

"Dude. This isn't funny," Mae said. "Levy and Beth broke up because of that. If it wasn't for me, they'd have a bunch of beautiful little stoner babies. Named, like, Clarence and Beth Junior."

"To be honest, I forgot all about that truck thing," Angus said. "All I remember from that night is what happened afterwards, when you fell out of that tree."

Mae winced. "I didn't need to be reminded of that part. I wound up, like, covered in corn chips."

Mae noticed with some displeasure that Gregg was suppressing a giggle. Damn you, Greggory. Your time will come.

"Okay," Gregg said. "So, like I said, Levy's usually out behind the Food Donkey. I can, like, take you to see him tomorrow after I get off work."

Mae scoffed. "I don't need you to babysit me, Gregg."

Gregg frowned. "Dude, you need me to vouch for you. If Levy thinks you're a cop or something, he won't even look at you."

Mae tried not to be offended by the notion that she could be mistaken for a cop. Then again, hadn't Germ once said that she was half-cop? If Levy thought Mae might rat him out to her Aunt Molly…

Well, Mae thought with some displeasure, Aunt Molly wasn't exactly an issue right now. But Levy might now know that. He might not have seen the missing person posters that Mae's parents had put up.

No. Mae didn't want to think about that right now. She had to focus on her main goal, which was apologizing to a stoner for making everyone see his pasty butt.

"Okay," Mae said. "It's a deal. Tomorrow, I'm gonna apologize the shit outta Levy."

And that was that. The plan was made. Tomorrow, Mae would make amends to Levy.

And, consequently, would smoke a bunch of weed.


	5. Burnt Out

_(DISCLAIMER: The writer of the fan fiction (Or, 'Fan Fic') has never indulged in the use of cannabis. As such, any depictions of drug use should be taken with a grain of salt. The author has done research, but it kind of a big sheltered dummy who doesn't know how bongs work.)_

* * *

Mae had begun to recline on the couch in Dr. Feldman's office. The sun was peeking in through the window's shutters, creating little bars of light on the floor. Mae had been in the office long enough to see the bars shift and move a bit.

"So, anyway, the next day, I woke up at, like, four or five," Mae said. "For breakfast, I had, like, some sort of bagel thing. My mom was reading a book about this dude who ate his own legs."

"Mae," Dr. Feldman said, "I feel like you're giving me way too many details. Are you trying to avoid telling me what happened when you smoked weed?"

Mae frowned. "If I just jump right into what happened, you might get confused. I'm, like, building up to it."

"You spent five minutes describing what happened when you drank your first beer," Dr. Feldman said. "You've been talking for forty minutes. And, while I'm glad you're opening up to me, I'm not sure why you kept adding all of that foreshadowing about your senior prom."

Ugh. Some people had no appreciation for good storytelling.

"Fine," Mae said. "So, like an hour later, Gregg and I went out to the Food Donkey…"

* * *

"… And he ate the whole thing! Like, right there in the store!"

Gregg was grinning like a madman as he recounted his work day to Mae. The hike out to the old Food Donkey hadn't taken too long. Time with Gregg seemed to go by fast like that. It was weird. Before too long, they were outside the former heart of hometown.

Mae always felt sad when she was here. It seemed like just yesterday that the Food Donkey had been buzzing with shoppers and jaded teens. Now, it was just a big, dead thing in the middle of a big, black parking lot.

"I can't believe they make you come into work on Sunday," Mae said.

"They don't make me come in, dude," Gregg pointed out. "I choose to. I need the hours. Plus, Sundays are usually pretty slow. Most folks are, like, at church."

"That means us dirty heathens get all the snacks to ourselves," Mae joked.

The two continued walking. Past the basketball court, around the Food Donkey, and just in front of the old train tracks. The back of the Food Donkey was covered in graffiti of various sorts. Mae recognized some that said 'NUKE POSSUM SPRINGS.'

"Shit," Mae said. "The back somehow smells more like glue than the inside."

"I think a lot of, like, drifters and crusties do drugs back here," Gregg said. "So, like, don't step on a needle or anything."

"Should be fine," Mae said. "I'm wearing boots."

A noise drew their attention to a pair of old, abandoned dumpsters behind the old, abandoned Food Donkey. A thin figure stepped out from behind one of the dumpsters, clad in a dirty, green hoodie.

Whoever it was, they'd apparently heard Mae and Gregg approaching. However, when they saw them, they calmed down and waved. Mae didn't quite understand why they were waving.

However, when Gregg waved back, Mae realized she simply hadn't recognized him.

It was Levy. It had only been two years, but it looked like Levy had aged ten. The dude looked like a trailer park smelled. Somehow, as Mae and Gregg got closer, the smell of glue intensified.

"Hey, Craig," Levy said. He was holding what looked like a cigarette in his right hand. It took Mae a moment to realize it was actually a joint. Mae had never smelled weed before. It smelled gross.

"It's Gregg," Gregg said quickly. He pointed towards Mae. "Do you remember Mae Borowski?"

Levy seemed to take the question into serious consideration. His face twitched a bit, and he lifted the joint to his lips. "Nah, dude," he said. "Sorry."

"I was friends with Casey Hartley," Mae offered. "Plus, I'm pretty sure you and me had homeroom together in junior year."

Levy blinked uncomprehendingly. "Not ringing any bells, man," he said.

Okay, this was getting a little annoying. Had he, like, fried all of the brain cells that contained memories about Mae? That was how brain cells worked, right?

"I put a kid in the hospital," Mae said. She didn't like that she had to dig this out to get him to recognize her. "Remember? Everyone called me Killer behind my back after that."

For a second, Levy's eyes seemed to light up. Sort of. It was a dull, hazy light, but a light nonetheless. After a second, however, the light faded. "No, sorry. I was, like, in and out of it for most of my teen years."

Mae just about threw up her hands in frustration. What was the point of making amends with someone who didn't even recognize you? To her relief, however, Gregg once again came to her rescue. Sort of.

"Remember the kid who puked on their date at senior prom?" He asked.

Once again, Levy's eyes lit up. This time, the realization stayed. "Oh, shit, yeah! That was sick, dude. I mean, I wasn't there when it happened, but you know… I think I heard about it once."

"Okay, you remembered something you weren't actually there for, but you didn't remember the times we actually met?" Mae asked. Levy simply shrugged.

This was getting to be a headache, and Mae hadn't gotten to the making amends part. Ugh. Maybe this whole thing was a huge mistake.

No. No, it was do or die time. If Mae got some closure, maybe everything would stop feeling awful.

"Hey, look," Mae said while Levy puffed on his joint. Her head was feeling a little buzzy. "Levy, I've got something I need to tell you—"

"Are you a cop?" Levy asked suddenly. Mae could only blink in surprise.

"Uh, what?"

"Are you a cop?" Levy asked. "You have to tell me if you're a cop."

"My aunt told me that's not actually true," Mae said. "So, like, the cops can lie about whatever they want. They probably do lie, too."

Levy frowned. "I dunno, man. I read about it online. I trust the internet more than some aunt I've never met."

Something about that comment made Mae's chest hurt. She swallowed the sensation, though. This whole thing was going off the rails. She needed to just clear the air, like, ASAP.

"Okay," Mae said, "so I wanted to apologize for something. Do you remember the party we had in senior year? Up by Possum Leap?"

Levy seemed to be barely paying attention to the conversation. He looked like he was staring right through Mae. The stink of his joint was starting to get to Mae. Gregg stood to Mae's side, his eyes darting back and forth between Mae and Levy.

"Well, during the party," Mae said slowly. "I was in Casey's pickup truck, and you and Beth Holstead were doing it in the back of the truck, and I accidentally hit the parking brake and then you both fell in a creek and everyone saw your butt."

Mae said all of that without taking a breath. When she was done, no one spoke. The atmosphere was tense, and somehow hard to discern. Levy blinked once or twice. His expression didn't change, though he had removed his joint from his lips.

"So, uh… yeah," Mae said. "I really, really wanted to apologize for that."

There was another moment of silence. Mae tried to read Levy's expression, but she couldn't make anything out. At most, he looked kinda sleepy. Mae almost would have liked it better if he'd been fuming and screaming.

Finally, Levy ended the awkward silence and spoke.

"'Kay," Levy said.

For a moment, Mae thought she might have heard wrong. She looked over to Gregg, who simply shrugged in response.

"That's it?" She asked, as if Levy was holding out on her.

The burn out just gave a noncommittal shrug, however, and placed his joint between his lips. "I dunno what else to tell you, man. That party was, like, two years ago. I don't really sweat stuff like that."

That was surprising. What kind of person didn't get hung up over being in a creek with their butt in the air? Well, okay, some people were probably super into that. Levy didn't seem like one of those people. He didn't seem like he was super into anything except, like, sniffing glue.

"Didn't you and Beth break up because of that?" Gregg asked. He didn't seem nearly as confused as Mae about this whole mess.

Levy groaned. "No, dude. We broke up because she cheated on me with Effing Steve Scriggins."

Okay, that at least made sense. Well, not the fact that someone would go for Scriggins, but the fact that Scriggins had ruined something. Judging by the vitriol in Levy's normally mellow voice, it sounded like he and Steve weren't close anymore.

"Well," Gregg said. "I guess that's taken care of."

"Uh, yeah," Mae said. "Well, uh… glad to see you're not upset or anything."

And that was that. Mae figured that she and Gregg would turn, go to the diner, and then go home for the night. The amends had been made. The apology had been done. But then Levy surprised Mae by pulling something out of his pocket.

"Hey, so, I appreciate the apology either way," he said as he offered the object to Mae. "So, you know, you can have this. I've got more back home, and my brother's hooking me up with more later this week."

Mae looked at the tiny wad of paper in Levy's hand uncomprehendingly. She didn't understand what it was at first. When she compared it to Levy's joint, however, she realized what was going on.

"Oh, shit," Mae said. She was being peer pressured. Her mind flashed back to all of the videos about substance abuse they'd watched in health class. This one kid did weed, and then he somehow got eaten by a lion. It was terrifying. She still had nightmares about those videos.

Mae shot a look at Gregg, who had a stupid, mischievous little grin on his face. Apparently, this whole thing was hilarious to him.

"Dude, no," Mae said. "Look, Levy, I don't wanna kill any more of my brain cells."

Levy blinked. "Dude, I'm not asking you to sniff glue. It's just weed. It's, like, harmless."

"What if I get addicted?" Mae asked. "Or, what if I OD?"

Gregg laughed. "Wow, Mae. You need to read up on some stuff," he said.

Levy was beginning to snicker too. Okay, this wasn't funny. Out of the three people in this big, empty parking lot, two of them were laughing at Mae. And one of them was her, do that didn't really work. Whatever.

Mae thought for a second. Gregg said he and Angus had tried weed out, right? And they seemed fine. Well, as fine as usual. On top of that, Mae was almost certain that whatever had aged Levy in the two years she'd been gone, it wasn't weed.

But okay. If these two dinguses were gonna have a chuckle over this, then Mae would give 'em something to chuckle about. She'd make them chuckle real good.

She was gonna weed it up.

* * *

And so, Mae smoked a bunch of weed.

Gregg sat off next to one of the dumpsters while he watched Mae light up her joint. It took her a few tries, but eventually she was doing drugs. She felt so mature. Like some cool alt rock girl. Yeah.

Levy had offered Gregg a joint, but he politely decline. Mae was actually kind of impressed. He really was trying to avoid any crimes. Well, mostly. But, still, Gregg was all mature now.

Again, mostly.

Also, the weed he and Angus had smoked last time had been bad. Real bad.

She, Gregg, and Levy sat up against the wall of the Food Donkey. The whole place smelled like glue and weed. It was gross. Mae eventually didn't mind though. Her whole body felt tingly. She felt good.

The three sat in silence for a bit. Three nerds, two joints, lots of garbage.

"So, like," Levy said after a moment. "What made you wanna come outta nowhere and apologize at me?"

Mae laughed. She didn't know why. She just did. "I've got a lot going on in my head," she said. "Like, me and Gregg went through a lotta shit last year."

Gregg blinked. "Um," he said. "Mae, maybe don't talk about the weird shit with Levy."

"Aw, what?" Mae asked. "Levy and me are pals now. We're buds."

"I still don't really know you that well, dude," Levy said. "I mean, you were friends with Casey, right? Me and him hung out before he went missing."

Even if she was starting to feel the weed, the mention of Casey made Mae feel bad. Real bad. She almost wanted to cry. She missed him. A lot. And his stupid dream ghost wouldn't leave her alone.

 _"_ _Okay, Mae, you've got serious mental issues. Taking mind altering drugs probably wasn't a good idea."_

Levy continued speaking. He seemed to be pretending that he hadn't heard the imaginary voice of Casey's dream ghost. "Yeah, he'd been, like, hanging with his cousin, and…" He stopped. "Well, whatever. His cousin was cool. Shame what happened to him."

Mae vaguely remembered something she'd heard last year. Something about Casey's cousin. It was something she hadn't wanted to be true. But, if it was true, it would explain why he'd been hanging with Levy.

No. It wasn't true. Casey had been a troublemaker, but he hadn't been a criminal. Right? Right. Doubting her dead friend wouldn't do Mae any good. It would do Mae the opposite of good.

Ugh. This was garbage.

"So, like…" Mae said slowly. "What do we do? Are we supposed to do something while we're high?"

Levy laughed. "Nah, man. You just chill. Or, like, watch shitty movies. The drugs in and of themselves are the activity."

"No offense, Levy," Mae said. "But that sounds really boring. Is this all you do all day? Just, like, sit around and be drugs?" Mae smacked her lips and leaned against the wall. The sky looked really, really real.

"Yeah," Levy mumbled. He blinked. For some reason, it took him a long time to do it. Which was weird, because things seemed, like, the opposite of slow. Mae could feel her heartbeat all through her body.

"You doing okay, Mae?" A voice asked. It was Gregg. Gregg was talking. GUH-REH-GUH. The man of many G's. The snack knife crime boy.

It was incredible. Gregg looked so real. Like he was right next to Mae. She reached out and rubbed her hand on his face.

"Dude, no," Gregg said. He gently took Mae's hand and pushed it away from his face. Her arm moving felt weird. Lots of stuff felt weird.

Everything was weird and stupid and beautiful. Mae just wanted to hug everyone. If only her heart wasn't beating so fast. Fast. FAS-TUH.

Too fast. So fast. Oh cripes. Oh cripes in heaven, she was going to die. Her heart was going to exploded out of her chest and she'd be eaten by a lion. Mae took in sharp, intense breaths, trying to calm herself down.

"Dude," Levy said. "Dude, chill."

Chill? How could Mae chill? Her thoughts were racing. She was going to die. Probably. Maybe. Maybe she was already dead? Oh god. What if she died that night in the woods, when they had first found the cultists? What if she hadn't woken up from her coma?

But she must have woken up. She'd been awake this whole time. She'd seen life stretch on after that night in the mines. After the cave in. After she'd lead her friends into danger and made them bury a bunch of dudes.

Oh god. Oh, God. They were dead. They were all dead. And she'd killed them. Or, at least, been complicit in killing them.

And one of them was

"I killed my aunt," Mae whispered.

Silence fell over the three of them. Mae turned towards Gregg, and saw him staring at Mae, his mouth hanging open. "Dude," he whispered.

Mae turned towards Levy and saw he was simply confused. Heh. Poor guy didn't know nothing about cults.

Levy looked at the joint Mae was holding in her fingers, and then back at her. "Jeez," he muttered. "Must've given you some bad shit. Sorry, dude."

Mae laughed. That was good Levy's obliviousness was cheering her up. They weren't talking about Casey, who was dead and also a spooky phantom. Also, the whole 'murdering cultists' thing was kinda funny now! Kinda really funny!

"Yeah, I killed the death outta her," Mae laughed. "Her and, like, twelve other guys. You know all the missing person posters been going up? That's me. That's us. They aren't missing, man. We, could, like, go find them."

"Dude, Mae, stop," Gregg said. "We've talked about this."

"My parents put up posters, Gregg!" Mae felt herself just blurt the words out. A sad, bitter laugh escaped her. "My mom organized, like, my entire extended family to try and find Aunt Molly!

"And I had to sit back and watch the whole thing!" Mae laughed again. The smoke from their joints was stinging her eyes. That must have been why she had to blink back her tears. "I couldn't say, 'Oh, hey, she died with a bunch of creepy cultists!'"

Mae could still remember when she'd realized Aunt Molly had gone missing. It was a week after the incident in the mines. Aunt Molly hadn't contacted mom or dad. She hadn't bumped into Mae and given her an earful. But it wasn't until one of the other cops had asked about her that reality sunk in.

In hindsight, it was obvious. She'd been way too dismissive about Mae's story about the kidnapper. In fact, she'd almost seemed to be actively trying to make Mae doubt her own story.

There had been no love lost between the two of them. But, even then, Mae didn't want to believe it.

Not that she had much of a choice.

Levy looked from Mae, to Gregg, to Mae again. Even if he was stoned, he seemed to be able to read the mood. He snubbed his joint out against the blacktop ground and put his hands in his pockets.

"Okay," he said, "I'm not gonna pretend I can wrap my head around any of that, but it sounds like you've got a lot of pent up shit, Mae."

"Dude," Gregg whispered. "Levy, don't tell anyone about what Mae just said."

Levy laughed at that. "Man, who am I gonna tell? No one takes people like me seriously. Besides, there's a good chance you're both high. Between the glue and the weed, anyone'd say crazy shit."

Gregg nodded. Mae, unfortunately, continued talking.

"I can never tell them," she mumbled. "We can never tell anyone, Gregg. Not even Levy."

"We can talk about this later, Mae," Gregg said. "For now, I think we should go. You can chill at my apartment until you come down from your high."

Mae nodded at that. She passed her joint to Levy—actually, she just sort of dropped it onto his pants leg—and got up to her feet. Everything felt very, very wobbly. The whole world, even.

When she began to stumble, Gregg was there to put an arm around her shoulder.

Levy waved goodbye to the two as they began to walk away. Gregg and Mae walked out across the seemingly infinite black of the parking lot and made their way back to the safety of home.

* * *

Mae hadn't told Dr. Feldman everything. She hadn't told him about what she'd said to Levy. She hadn't told him about her panic attack. She'd told him about some weird thoughts she'd had—mostly about brownies, pierogis, and the Swamp Husband DVD.

From the look on his face, though, Feldman knew she was leaving something out. He didn't press her for more info, though. That was good. Mae liked that.

"So, I take it that you didn't love the experience," he said.

"I wouldn't do it again," Mae muttered. "Plus, I wound up eating, like, all of Gregg's chips. And a whole thing of microwave ramen. Without microwaving it."

"Yep, weed'll do that," Feldman said. He marked something down in his notes once again.

"Well, that was… an interesting second session," he said. "I'll see you next month. Maybe next time, we could talk about your… other issues?"

Mae winced. Right. The softball thing. The shapes. She guessed she'd have to get around to talking about that eventually. And maybe Dr. Feldman could, like, hypnotize her into not being nuts. Because Mae probably needed that right now.

More and more things were falling out of focus, and Mae didn't know what to do.


	6. Bonus: Gregg and Bea Solve a Mystery

Early evening in Possum Springs. The sky was a sleepy orange, the setting sun poking out from behind a few scarce clouds. The weather was getting warmer. It was still appropriate weather for long sleeves and hoodies, but more and more people were just wearing t-shirts.

Not that Bea could appreciate the weather, really. She was stuck behind the counter at the Ol' Pickaxe. A whole day of moving tools, lifting supplies, and explaining different types of hammers to the customers.

They really needed to get someone else on the team. That guy Danny had worked for them for, like, two or three days before getting fired. Maybe Germ was looking for a job? He already helped out sometimes.

Bea almost considered if Mae might be interested, but she decided against it. She loved Maeday, but she didn't trust her around anything heavy and unwieldy.

Well, this was all stuff Bea could talk to her dad about. He'd been having a few good days recently. Bea would have been hopeful, but he'd had good days before. Without some sort of professional help, Bea didn't know if her dad would get out of the place he was in.

The bell above the door rang, and Bea already knew who it was. Mae stopped in to check on her friends every day. It was right before closing, so if Mae wanted to do something, Bea felt like she'd be down for it. She didn't really have any other plans.

But it wasn't Mae at the door. That threw Beatrice for a loop. Instead, it was Gregg. His expression was hard to read as he sprinted towards the shop's counter.

This was weird. Gregg almost never stopped in at the Ol' Pickaxe. It wasn't an unwelcome surprise, of course—she didn't hang out with Gregg that much, but she still considered him a friend. Still, something seemed wrong.

"Dude, the barn!" He said, stopping to catch his breath. "Burglars!"

"Okay, Gregg, I'm going to need a complete sentence," Bea said. "Also, hello to you, too."

Gregg seemed confused at first. He nodded, though, and waved. "Yeah. Hey. Hi, Bea. Hi. Someone broke into the Party Barn."

"Is it really breaking in considering it's abandoned?" Bea asked. "Because, if it is, then we break in there all the time."

"This is serious, Bea!" Gregg exclaimed. "They jacked our shit! All of our shit is jacked as hell!"

Okay, that was concerning. Bea knew that leaving the instruments in the Party Barn was a bad idea. It was a good thing she wasn't dumb enough to leave her computer in there. But now wasn't the time to say 'I told you so.'

"Have you told the police?" Bea asked. Almost as soon as she said it, though, she realized it was a dumb question. Gregg shared the same 'Eff the cops' mentality that Mae had. The antiestablishment fervor of middle class 20-somethings.

"If I tell the cops, they'll just say it was dumb for me to keep my shit in there," Gregg said.

"Okay, but it was pretty dumb," Bea pointed out.

"And that's why I'm not telling the cops," Gregg said. "I've already heard it from you."

Bea sighed. "Look, Gregg, I'm sorry. This really sucks. Is there anything I can do?"

"Yeah," Gregg said, "I'm gonna try and sleuth out some clues. Come with me. Let's be cops."

Bea wasn't even sure what to say to that. Over the few years she'd known him, Bea had never quite gotten used to Gregg's strange brand of zaniness. It seemed like every few days, he had something new to surprise her. This was one of those days.

"Okay, I guess I can help you look," Bea said slowly. "Should we, like, tell Mae or Angus?"

Gregg frowned. "Nah, Mae's doing something with Germ. And Angus has…" A look of mild disgust seemed to cross Gregg's face. "He's got family stuff."

Ah. 'Family stuff'. Now that she thought about it, Angus had mentioned his brother would be coming over for a visit a few weeks ago. That meant a visit to their mom. Bea felt her face contort into the same look of disgust that Gregg had.

"Alright," Bea sighed. "Let's go. I don't know what you're expecting, though."

Gregg grinned. "I'm expecting to solve a mystery, Beatrice."

* * *

The Party Barn seemed to never change. Ever since it had closed, and the supplies and furniture had been moved out, it seemed to be in a constant state of emptiness. It was like the pictures of abandoned building people posted online.

Well, it was an abandoned building. Most of the time. But whenever the band was in there, for a few minutes every night the building was full of music.

Tonight, though, it was only full of old confetti and two idiots looking for clues.

Bea wasn't entirely sure why she was there. It was probably just because she didn't really have anything else to do. It was a little weird that Mae had decided to just hang out with Germ without saying hi.

Then again, both Mae and Germ were a little weird themselves.

While Gregg searched around behind the Birthday Zone stage, Mae leaned against one of the support columns and lit a cigarette. Watching Gregg dig through the old streamers and decorations, Bea found it amazing that he had so much energy after a day of work.

"Oh, shit!" Gregg suddenly called out.

Bea raised an eyebrow. "What? Did you find something?"

Bea walked over to where Gregg was crouched down. She'd figured he hadn't found whatever clue he was looking for, and she was right. Gregg was pointing to the cement floor underneath the Birthday Zone stage. Graffiti of all sorts had been carved into it.

Gregg was pointing at a cluster of words in particular. 'GGG', 'KC', and 'MAEDAY'.

"Oh," Bea said. "I'm guessing this is something you guys did a while ago?"

"Yeah, when we were, like, 12," Gregg said. "For some reason, Casey thought it was cool for him to write his name as 'KC' back then." He shrugged, and then pointed to the three G's on the floor. "That's mine."

Bea blinked. She knew for a fact that those weren't his initials. "Why the three G's?" She asked.

Gregg smirked, as if he was holding in the greatest joke in the world. "They're the G's in my name," he said. "They stand for Gay, Gayer, Gayest."

Bea laughed. "You know, you're lucky your name has three G's in it. That joke wouldn't work if your name was, like, Lawrence. You should be thankful."

"I'm thankful that my name isn't Lawrence every day of my life," Gregg said.

Bea was contemplative for a moment. "So, like," she said, "I hope you don't think this is prying, but did you really know you were gay back when you were 12?"

Gregg didn't seem offended. He shrugged nonchalantly. "I mean, I almost feel like I've always known. Like, I realize there must have been a point in my life when I didn't know, but… I mean, I dunno."

Bea nodded. "Right. Sorry, I don't know why I asked."

"Dude, it's cool. Don't apologize." Gregg laughed. "I mean, I knew who I was pretty early. I feel like a lot of people probably go through life not knowing who or what they're into, you know?"

Bea did know. Some people, like Gregg or Jackie, figured out who they were fairly early. Meanwhile, Bea wasn't 100% certain about who she was. She was fairly certain she was straight. At least, she thought she was. But every so often, something happened that made her question that.

Now wasn't the time to think about that, though. Gregg continued searching under the stage. After a few seconds, he let out a triumphant cry and pulled something out.

"Check it out!" He exclaimed. "A clue!"

It took Bea a few seconds to register what exactly it was. Mostly because she couldn't believe what she was seeing.

"That's a bong," Bea said.

"Sure is!" Gregg said. "Our culprit must've dropped it when they were nabbing the instruments."

Bea didn't even know where to start with that. For one thing, it wasn't an old bong. The green glass wasn't dusty, so it couldn't have been here for long. Also, while Bea wasn't very knowledgeable about weed culture, she somehow doubted that people just carried bongs with them all over the place.

"Levy probably knows whose bong this is," Gregg said. "If not, he can point us in the right direction."

"Then what?" Bea asked.

"Then, we nab 'em," Gregg said with a grin. "We bring 'em to justice!"

"Gregg, we're not cops." Bea pointed out.

"We killed those weirdos in the mine. We're basically cops."

"That's not how being a cop works," Bea muttered. "That's the opposite of how being a cop works."

Gregg rolled his eyes. "Whatever. It's a lead. Now let's go out to the Food Donkey and find Levy." He crammed the bong into his leather jacket. The top of the pipe poked out of the neck hole.

There was no way this wasn't going to end badly.

* * *

Bea wasn't in the habit of hiking out to the Food Donkey. If she was, she probably would have felt like the trek took a bit longer than it normally would. The whole way there, she was terrified someone would notice the green bong poking out of Gregg's jacket.

To her surprise, though, no one seemed to notice. Even in Possum Springs, everyone was busy with their own lives.

"So," Gregg said as they made their way past the Clik Clak, "you and Angus have been friends for a while, right?"

"Since, like, 8th grade, yeah," Bea said. Then, she chuckled. "To be honest, I was kinda surprised when you two started dating. Like, you're complete opposites in a lot of ways. No offense."

"You're really worried about offending me, huh?" Gregg asked. "Don't sweat it. He's big and cool, I'm small and scrappy. He's a super genius, I'm… Gregg."

Bea frowned, stopping in her tracks. Gregg stopped alongside her. "I don't think Angus would agree with that. You're smarter than you give yourself credit for."

Gregg laughed at that. It was a sad bark of a laugh. They continued walking along the black tar of the parking lot. The two turned the corner around the Food Donkey, making their way to the back. Bea was beginning to notice the faint smell of glue.

"Man, it's my second time seeing Levy in less than a week," Gregg muttered.

"Who is Levy, anyway?" Bea asked. She hadn't always socialized with the same people as Gregg and Mae. She'd known Casey, sort of; mostly through his reputation as a troublemaker. But Levy? Bea didn't remember anyone named Levy.

"Eh. If you don't know him, you don't know him," Gregg replied. "Thanks for coming with me, by the way. Kinda bored without Angus or Mae."

"I still can't believe Angus's brother makes him visit their mom," Bea muttered. "Like, I get he's trying to do be, like, a bigger person and all, but—"

"There's a lot about Angus's brother I don't get," Gregg said. "Let's leave it at that. I don't hate the guy, but… yeah. I feel like it'd be better if he just left Angus alone."

Bea didn't know if she entirely agreed with that. She'd met Angus's brother once or twice. Still, Gregg did have a point; he needed to stop dragging Angus along to meet with toxic people from his past.

They were behind the Food Donkey now. While the front was simply abandoned, the back was a mess. It was covered in graffiti. A pair of half-filled dumpsters were lined out along the back. Two people were huddled between the dumpsters, relaxing.

Bea recognized one of them. And she was very confused.

"Mae?" Bea called out as they approached the dumpsters.

Mae waved cheerfully at Bea, a smile on her face. "Hey, kids."

"Mae?!" Gregg yelled a bit too loud. "What are you doing here, Mae?"

Mae blinked. Her smile was replaced with a puzzled frown. "What? Dude, you told me to—"

"Hey, Levy, what's this bong?!" Gregg practically screamed.

The huddled up figure in the green hoodie looked up at Gregg. He looked like a mess. His eyes were baggy and lifeless. He looked like he hadn't shaved in months. Also, he smelled like glue. Like, really badly.

"Hey, Craig," he said. Then, he looked at Bea. "Hey, Steve."

It took Bea a moment to figure out that she'd somehow been confused with Steve Scriggins. She and Steve didn't look anything alike. How did you make a mistake like that? The guy was clearly out of it, but still. Weird.

While Gregg fished the bong out of his jacket, Bea exchanged a confused look with Mae. Her oldest friend could only shrug. It seemed like she was as confused as Beatrice.

"Hey, man," Gregg said, "we found this bong at the Party Barn. Someone stole our shit, and—"

"Wait, what?!" Mae blurted out. "The instruments were stolen? When? Who? Why?"

"That's what we're trying to find out," Bea said. "Apparently."

Levy, meanwhile, was transfixed on the bong. Well, not transfixed. But his glazed over little eyes were pretty focused on it. The stoner reached his arm up and wiped his nose off on his sleeve. Slowly, he stood up, and reached out his hand to take the bong. When he wasn't curled up with his knees to his chest, Bea was surprised by how tall he was.

"I saw a bong like this up in Bright Harbor once," Levy said. He turned it over in his hands with surprising delicateness. "Shit's legal there, man. Dunno whose it is, though. Sorry, Craig."

"It's Gregg," Craig said.

"Weed's legal in Bright Harbor?" Mae asked. "Whoa, wait, is that why you guys are moving there?"

Gregg stared blankly at Mae. "No, dude. I already told you why we're moving. It isn't for the weed."

"You don't gotta be ashamed, man," Levy said, handing the bong back to Gregg. "I'd move to where it's legal if I could afford to. You and your dude will probably have a lot of fun in Bright Harbor."

"Yeah," Mae said. "You'll have fun smoking pot and getting sheep tattoos."

At times like this, Bea honestly couldn't tell if Mae was joking or not. She sincerely hoped she was. Mae seemed to misunderstand a lot of stuff a lot of the time, though. It was like a weird gift she had. Although she wouldn't put it past Gregg to get a second sheep tattoo.

Gregg stuffed the bong back into his jacket. He had a serious expression on his face. In fact, it was a little too serious. Like he was trying too hard. "Look, the culprit left the bong at the scene of the crime. Can you tell us anything?"

Levy sniffed, pausing to scratch his nose. "I dunno, man. I mean, I'm pretty knowledgeable about weed culture, and I can tell you for a fact that people don't just carry bongs with them all over the place."

"Oh, hey, that's what I thought," Bea said.

Levy looked at her as if he'd completely forgotten she was there. He blinked a few times, and then continued. "Uh, yeah. Okay. Anyway, it might've been one of the folks off the train or something. I dunno."

"This is garbage!" Mae shouted, throwing her hands up into the air. Bea looked over at Gregg. She expected him to be similarly upset. Instead, though, Gregg had a much harder-to-read expression. Gregg's eyes flicked from Mae, to Bea, and for a moment he looked caught off guard.

"Extreme garbage, yeah," Gregg said. "Man, I'm so upset. I just wanna kick a tree." He nodded, slowly. "We should all go get pizza so I'm not mad anymore."

What was it with everyone in Bea's circle of friends and solving their problems with pizza? "I seriously think we should go tell the cops, Gregg," Bea said. "It might not be too late for them to do something."

Mae winced. Bea had a good feeling she knew why. "If you guys are gonna talk to the cops, I think I'll pass. I feel weird around cops ever since last year."

Levy nodded, seemingly in agreement. "Yeah, I don't like cops. I can't come with you guys."

Bea opened her mouth to tell Levy that this didn't involve him, so they hadn't really expected him to come along. But there probably wasn't any point. Levy seemed like he just kind of did things.

"We'll probably find some cops at the Clik Clak," Gregg insisted. "Anyway, we gotta carbo load if we're gonna report a crime to the cops. Need some cheesey pizza in our bellies. Cops won't respect us otherwise."

"Nothing you just said made sense," Bea said.

"Yeah," Mae said slowly. "But, I mean, all this talk about cheese has me all hungry for some pizz." Mae paused. "Er, I'm calling pizza 'pizz' now," she clarified.

"No, we all got that," Bea assured. She sighed. Why were her friends like this? She loved them, more or less, but still. It was like rounding up a bunch of children, and she and Angus were the parents.

No. Wait. That analogy didn't really work, because Angus was in a relationship with one of their adult children. This comparison was getting kind of gross. Bea decided to drop it.

"Fine," she sighed. "Pizza is fine. But if the cops can't find Gregg's instruments, it's you guys' fault."

Gregg threw up his arms and made a strange howling noise. Bea had heard him make it before. She figured it was some sort of in joke between Mae and Gregg. Either that, or Gregg thought he was a werewolf. Bea didn't think the second one was too likely, but Gregg was unpredictable like that.

* * *

Anyway, even if Bea wouldn't admit it, she was starting to crave pizza too.

"… And, like, at the bottom is the worst pizza, but everything else is still really good!"

The group had just finished eating their first slices, and Gregg was finishing up his explanation of the pizza scale. It had come up when Levy had complained about the pizza. He was fairly opinionated for a guy who'd followed them to a diner without asking.

To be fair, though, he at least had money to pay for some of the pizza. That was more than Mae could contribute. And she'd actually been invited.

Bea still wasn't sure why they were eating pizza instead of going to the cops. Sure, Gregg was a little impulsive, but still. Even Mae seemed a little on edge as she helped herself to one of Gregg's leftover crusts.

Meanwhile, Gregg was acting like nothing was wrong. In fact, he was fairly chipper. Out of the four people at the table, he was in the best mood, no questions asked. Mae was on edge, and Levy seemed just kind of… bleh.

"So," Bea said, trying to change the topic of conversation, "Gregg, you guys are going apartment hunting soon, right?"

There was an immediate shift in mood at the table. Gregg somehow got even more excited. Talking about the move always seemed to cheer him up. Mae, meanwhile, had an uncomfortable look on her face. She wasn't happy about Gregg moving; or, at least, she was conflicted. She didn't do a good job at hiding it.

Levy remained completely neutral as he ate a slice of pizza, crust-first.

"Oh, yeah. We're staying in some dumpy motel outside of town while we go searching." Gregg's eyes lit up. "Oh! You guys should tell me what you want! I'll bring you souvenirs!"

"I'd like some saltwater taffy," Levy said.

"Uh… I wasn't really asking you, but okay. I'll keep it in mind, dude."

"Do they have any places that sell, like, samurai swords?" Mae asked. Her mood had turned around a bit. Samurai swords tended to do that.

"Mae, I can't afford a samurai sword. If I could, the apartment would be filled with them," Gregg said.

"Oh." Mae frowned. "Alright, I'll take, like, a shirt, or whatever."

"I'm good more or less," Bea said. "You guys don't need to get anything for me."

"Oh, boo," Gregg said. "Live a little, girl. Jeez."

"Hey, I'm coming down, and I'm starting to realize you aren't Steve," Levy said, as if this was some major revelation. Actually, for him, it probably was.

No one seemed to know what to say to that. They just kept eating. Eventually, when they were done with the pizza, Mae spoke up. "Hey, Gregg," she said, "Why'd you tell me to wait for you behind the Food Donkey? I kinda wanted to avoid that place after last time."

That threw Bea for a loop, and raised a couple of red flags. "What?" She said. "Gregg told me you were off hanging with Germ or something."

Mae looked at Bea as if she'd just grown another head. "Uh, no?" She said. "I haven't even seen Germ today. He wasn't hanging out in the parking lot or anything."

Gregg wasted no time in changing the flow of the conversation. "So, Bea, how's the Pickaxe? Still killing you?"

Bea frowned at Gregg. "Don't change the conversation," she said. "Why did you lie about Mae hanging out with Germ?"

Gregg's eyes darted from Mae, to Bea. He looked nervous. Bea got the feeling that Gregg wasn't a great liar. That made sense; he was a pretty genuine guy. The problem was, Bea had no idea why he was lying.

Thankfully, Levy saved the day for Gregg by blurting something surprising out.

"Hey, so your stuff getting stolen reminded me of something," he said. "Did you guys know Possum Springs had a cat burglar in the 20's? Like, during Prohibition and shit."

Levy's sudden broaching of the subject distracted Bea from her suspicion. She'd remembered hearing something like this when she visited the historical society building back in high school. What surprised her was that Levy knew about it.

"A cat burglar?" Mae asked. "Like, the kind with a whip who flips through lasers?"

"Yeah, but it was the 20's, so the lasers probably weren't super-advanced," Levy said. "But back in the 20's, there were a bunch of dudes making moonshine up here. And I guess someone decided to, like, capitalize on that and steal shit."

"Whoa, that's cool," Gregg said. His nervousness was gone, replaced by sincere awe. "So, Possum Springs had some sort of weird super thief?"

"I mean, no," Levy said. "He stole shit for two years, but eventually someone living up in the hills shot him. Turns out he was some homeless dude from off the tracks. He buried everything he stole up near Possum Jump."

"Okay, I didn't know that part," Bea said. "Why'd he bury the stuff?"

Levy shrugged. For once, he didn't look like a stoner. He looked like a normal dude. A normal dude who happened to do drugs, but still. "I dunno, man. Shit's weird. Like, I think every town in the world is sitting on a crockpot of weird shit. And, like, if you dig deep enough, you'll find that crockpot."

"Wait," Mae said. "I'm confused. This guy buried crockpots?"

"I know a lot of stuff about weird shit in Possum Springs," Levy said. "Like, the Deep Hollow Hollerers, the town's secret society, Little Joe. It's all just interesting, you know?"

"I can kinda get that," Bea said.

"Yeah, Bea's a history nerd," Mae commented.

"I'm really only into history when someone dies or goes missing," Levy explained. "But that's, like, most of history, because most people die."

Bea blinked. "'Most people?'" She repeated.

"I don't know everything," Levy said.

That much was pretty obvious.

* * *

After dinner was done, it was time for everyone to head home. Mae had gone walking off on her own, and Levy had just sort of slipped away at some point after the meal. It was down to Bea and Gregg again. Since their homes were in the same direction, they were more or less caught in a conversation.

"Well, today turned out a lot more weird than I expected," Bea sighed. She was trying to light up the new cigarette she had placed between her lips. She was grateful it was staying brighter longer during the day. In winter and fall, when the dark came early, she sometimes had trouble switching on the lighter.

"I dunno," Gregg said. "I think by now we've all had much weirder nights."

Bea nodded. The orange flame sprung from her lighter, and soon the end of her cigarette had a healthy glow. God, she'd needed that. "Mhmm," she said. "I guess this night doesn't even rank in my top ten weird nights. Sorry we didn't figure out who stole your instruments, though."

"Oh, I did that," Gregg said casually.

Bea stopped in the middle of the sidewalk while Gregg continued walking. He stopped in front of her, and turned with a sheepish grin on his face. They were right outside the Snack Falcon; inside, a woman was frantically ringing up an insane number of bags of chips.

"What?" Bea asked. "Wait, so this whole thing was some stupid prank?!"

"No, dude," Gregg assured. "It wasn't a prank. It was a ploy."

Bea wasn't sure how angry to be. On the one hand, her time had been wasted. On the other hand, all she'd really lost was a few bucks spent on pizza. So, okay, Bea wasn't really angry. She was more… flabbergasted. That was a good word for it.

"Why?" Bea asked. "Like, seriously, Gregg. What the hell? I know you do a lot of wacky shit and get away with it, but this was really, really dumb."

Gregg chuckled, and shrugged. "I dunno," he said. "You and me never really hang out. I kinda wanted to, like, bond before me and Angus moved."

That caught Bea off-guard. She wasn't sure if that was sweet, or just really misguided. Probably both? Gregg was kind of misguided in general like that. Weird guy. "You couldn't have just asked me to hang out?" She asked.

"I got the feeling you'd, like, be busy or something," Gregg said. "I mean, if it wasn't for Angus, would you ever even bother hanging with me?"

Bea knew the answer to that question. She didn't really want to answer it, though. Gregg was a nice guy, she knew that. Despite her concerns about his relationship with Angus, she didn't have a problem with Gregg. But she and him were nearly complete opposites.

"So, I came up with a bogus emergency to get you to hang with me," Gregg said. "I stashed the instruments in my apartment, and set it up so we'd run into Mae because I knew you'd hang out longer if she was around."

Bea blinked. "How much thought did you put into this?"

"I mean, as much thought as I put into other things," Gregg said.

That didn't really explain anything.

"Okay, Gregg," Bea said, "I get that you thought that this was, like, a fun, quirky thing, but if you stop to think about it, it was kind of manipulative."

Gregg stared at Bea blankly. Then, a look of realization spread on his face, followed by an expression of shame. "Oh, shit," he said. "Yeah. Wow. This was kind of not a great thing to do, huh?"

"Yeah, like, I'm glad you want to be better friends, but if I didn't know you, Gregg, I'd punch you right in your jaw," Bea said.

Gregg nodded slowly. "Jeez," he muttered. "Yeah, sorry, Bea. I don't know why I do things sometimes. Like, I just get ideas, and I wanna do them. You know?"

"I kinda got that impression," Bea said. She could feel herself calming down a bit. The cigarette was helping. Plus, Gregg was genuinely apologetic.

"Tell you what," Bea continued. "Next time you want to hang out, maybe you could just ask me. And maybe don't ever pull a stunt like this ever again."

"Don't gotta tell me twice," Gregg said with a laugh.

And he never, ever did.


	7. Pizza Party

The entrance to the club was like some sort of horrible monster's mouth. The monster roared, but instead of just noise, it was lights and club music. People came and went, entering and exiting the mouth. They all looked like dorks.

Mae almost wasn't sure why she was there. She'd been feeling awful lately. Bad dreams. Headachey. Whatever.

She had a mission, didn't she? Mae had to, one, apologize to the guy she thought was the guy she put in the hospital; and two, try and get Bombshell's info. Like, at least her Chattrbox account. Mae was going to keep coming until this was a thing.

On top of all of that, a night out with Bea was always fun. Bea had been reluctant to bring Mae along at first, but Borowski was nothing if not persistent. The two friends stood on the precipice of clubbing. They were, like, dungeon explorers. Or something.

"Mae, are you sure you're up for this?" Bea asked. There was real concern in her voice. Once again: Mom Friend.

"I'm good," Mae said. She'd meant to sound confident. She wound up sounding like she wasn't certain herself. She looked at Bea out of the corner of her eye. "Hey… if I see Andy in there, can you, like… back me up?"

"You don't even know if he's really Andy Cullen," Bea pointed out. "That being said, I will absolutely be in your corner, Maeday."

That brought a smile to Mae's face. Maybe it wasn't such a bad thing for Bea to be a Mom Friend.

Jackie was waiting for them inside of the club. Well, she was waiting for Bea. Mae just happened to be there. While Bea and Jackie exchanged pleasantries, Mae scanned the crowd.

Yup. He was there. Andy, or Drew, or whoever he was, was out on the dancefloor. He was just sort of standing around. Not really moving to the beat. He had a shy, uncertain smile on his face as he sipped from his red plastic cup.

Alright. Deep breaths. Deep, deep breaths. There was no need to panic about this. Mae had been able to apologize to Levy, right? Levy had been cool. He'd even shared his drugs with her. That was, like, the opposite of someone being angry.

"Hey, Bea…" Mae started to say, but she stopped. Bea and Jackie were talking about something going on at Jackie's school. Some protest, or something. It was intense, Jackie-as-hell talk.

Mae didn't want to interrupt. I mean, obviously this was important, but Mae couldn't just butt in on their conversation. Even if what Mae was doing was super important and interesting.

Besides, she had a clear path to him. If Mae waited too long, the dancefloor would be cluttered with dancing hipsters and gyrating dorks. Mae wasn't gonna try and make her way through a crowd like that. It was now or never.

Mae made her way across the dancefloor to where Drew was standing. Bea could keep talking about protests or whatever. Mae wasn't nervous or upset or anything. She was good. She was confident, and no one could prove otherwise.

"Hey," she croaked out when she was close enough. Drew blinked a few times. He seemed surprised that Mae had just walked up to him and started talking. That was kind of understandable. As far as he seemed to know, he'd only met her once.

"Oh, hey… uh… you," Drew said. He gave another one of his nervous smiles. It just drew attention to his weird, bent nose. Mae winced when she saw it. She hadn't done that, had she? She hadn't been paying attention when the… incident had happened.

All she remembered were the shapes. Red shapes.

"You okay?" Drew asked, and Mae snapped back. She'd started drifting off for a bit. She tried to regain her composure. Tried to.

"Hey, so, I wanted to ask you something. Sorry if this is a weird question." She laughed. It was not a natural laugh at all. If Mae heard someone laugh like that, she'd think they were a serial killer.

"Is your last name Cullen?"

The club seemed to disappear for a moment. The music, the lights, the other people, they were all gone. Everything was frozen in time while Mae waited for an answer to the question. She hoped he'd say 'no'. She wanted to apologize, and she wanted closure, but most of all she wanted this to be a mistake.

Please, she thought, let it be a mistake. Please, please, God, don't let his name be Cullen.

The amazed look on his face, however, wasn't a good sign. Slowly, the club returned to normal time as Andy gave his answer.

"How did you know?" He asked. "Wait, did we go to school together?"

Oh, eff you, God. Thanks for nothing.

Mae felt the world start to spin. She wasn't sure what to do. She wasn't sure what to say. What could she say? She'd been planning for this, and now she was completely helpless.

 _"_ _Start a fire. Start a fire and escape in the confusion."_

Mae tried to ignore the Dream Casey's bad advice. She generally tried to do that. It hadn't been too easy lately, though.

"No, I… I just remembered you from softball," Mae said. "In, uh… in middle school."

The look of pleasant surprise on Andy's face changed to one that wasn't as easy to read. What was it? Fear? Sadness? Anger? Whatever it was, it seemed like softball was a sore subject for him. This was a bad idea. But Mae was already in this deep, and she didn't know what else to do except keep on going.

"Yeah, I guess that would be kind of memorable, huh?" Andy said. He took another sip of his beer, chuckling a bit. "God, that's not something I wanted to think about tonight. Were you… at the game where it happened?"

Shit. Shit, shit, shit. An entire explosion of shit.

He really didn't recognize her. That was good, Mae guessed. Sort of. But how would he react to finding out? She somehow doubted he'd take it as well as Levy had. He didn't look anywhere near high enough.

Then again, maybe this was all just a coincidence. Maybe he was a different Andy Cullen who'd had an unfortunate experience at a softball game. Yeah, sure! There were probably hundreds of Andy Cullens who'd been hospitalized during a softball game.

No, wait. That was dumb.

There wasn't anything else Mae could do, it seemed. Nothing but talk. And Mae was awful at talking.

"Yeah," Mae said. "Yeah, I mean, I was sort of there. At the game. I… uh… I…" Mae's eyes went wide as she began to trail off. Her focus shifted away from Andy, zeroing in on something in the distance.

Andy frowned. A look of genuine concern appeared on his face. "Oh, jeez. Are you okay?" He asked. He sounded seriously scared for this girl he barely knew.

But Andy didn't need to be concerned. He hadn't seen what Mae had seen, so he didn't know what had caused her to trail off. But behind Andy, at the back of the club, was the bar.

And at the bar, sitting on a stool with a drink in her hand, was the Bombshell.

She hadn't noticed Mae yet. The dancefloor wasn't too crowded, but there was still enough activity that Mae would be difficult to spot. But that was good. If she'd seen Mae first, Mae might have had a panic attack.

"Hey, hey!" Andy said. "Are you alright?" He reached out to try and shake Mae back to reality, but she brushed him aside.

"Yeah, nice seeing you too," she said, practically sleepwalking past him and towards the bar.

Part of Mae was actually more scared of Bombshell than she was of Andy. After all, Andy was just a dude she'd hospitalized. Bombshell was a cute girl. Cute girls mattered a whole heck of a lot more than hospitals.

Their eyes met by the time Mae was at the edge of the dancefloor. Mae watched helplessly as her crush smiled and waved at her. Okay, good. She recognized her. That was good. And terrifying. That put a lot more pressure on her.

"Hi, it's me," Mae said when she made it to the bar. Talking to her had been so much easier last time. "You know. Mae. Borowski."

"Hey, you," Bombshell said with a small smirk. "Haven't seen you around here in a while. How'd your ghost situation work out, Borowski?"

Oh, great. She even remembered Mae's little confession. Good. This was good. This was not a problem at all.

"Oh, you know, fine," Mae said. "Turns out it wasn't a ghost. Just a cult. But now a ghost is, like, in my head, or something, and I don't know what to do about that."

That got a laugh out of Bombshell. Mae wasn't sure if that was a good sign or a bad sign. She was gonna say it was mixed for now.

"You're an interesting person, Borowski. Did you know that?"

Mae chuckled. "Yeah, well, being interesting is all you can ever hope to be."

That brought a round of polite laughter out of both of them. This was going pretty okay. So far, Mae hadn't puked on herself or bumped into a doorframe or anything. And, despite talking about the ghost in her head, Bombshell didn't seem to think she was crazy.

Actually, that was a little weird. Even Mae thought she was crazy, so why didn't this girl? Whatever. Mae could come back to that later.

"You know," Bombshell said, setting her drink on the bar top. "You and I didn't really get a chance to talk last time. Not for long, anyway."

"Yeah," Mae chuckled. "I mean, I didn't even get your name or phone number or anything."

Bombshell snickered. "Is that your way of asking for my phone number?" She asked.

Mae immediately backpedaled. "What? No. I'm… don't. No reception. Phones. Phones!"

That made Bombshell laugh again. Why did this girl keep laughing at her? Mae was funny, but she wasn't that funny. She hadn't, like, busted out any really good jokes or anything.

"So," Bombshell said, "you wanna get outta here?"

Mae's face immediately felt hot. Oh, jeez. Was she asking what Mae thought she was asking? This was going pretty quickly. Holy crap. Mae didn't think she was ready for that sort of thing. "Well," she said, "I mean, my friend was my ride, so I don't think I could, like, go to your place."

Bombshell raised her eyebrow, a smirk on her face. "Not what I was asking, Borowski. I was talking about pizza. Do you like pizza?"

Well, that was a dumb question. "Everyone likes pizza. You show me someone who says they don't like pizza, I will show you a liar."

Once again, Bombshell was laughing. Mae was trying to be funny that time, though, so it worked out. She was starting to feel less and less awkward. Of course, Mae always felt awkward, but she was at least reaching normal levels of awkwardness.

"Alright, well," Bombshell said, straightening herself up. "You wanna hit up the pizza place across the street?"

"I mean, I don't have any money, so I'll eat pretty much anywhere," Mae said.

Bombshell didn't laugh this time. She just smiled. It was this weird, knowing smile. Was this the face people made when they flirted? Mae didn't have a super whole lot of experience with flirting. She'd kissed maybe two people in her life. And the last time she'd tried to talk to someone cute, she'd wound up with a mouthful of trash spaghetti.

"Alright, then. I'll pay, but you owe me," Bombshell said. "I'll meet you at the pizza place. You're probably gonna wanna tell your friend, right?"

"Yeah. Tell her about pizza," Mae said. "I'll meet you at pizza."

Mae watched as Bombshell walked off into the crowd of dancing dorks. She couldn't believe she'd done it. She'd set out to talk to the Bombshell, and she did the talking part. She talked real good.

She had a feeling she was forgetting something, but Mae dismissed it. For now, she had to find Bea.

* * *

"You know, Borowski, when I said you should tell your friend, I meant, like, tell her where you would be," Bombshell said. "I didn't think you'd invite her along."

Mae, Bea, and the Bombshell all sat in a booth table at the pizza place near the club. Bombshell had ordered a medium pizza, half pepperoni, half cheese. A safe bet. She'd already helped herself to a slice of the cheese.

"Yeah, see, I figured," Bea said.

Mae gave them both an embarrassed look. Jackie and Bea had been talking with some third girl about, like, corporations or net neutralities or something. Mae couldn't help but feel like she'd interrupted something.

This was important, though. The imporantest. It had been a long, long time since Mae had been on anything that could be considered a date, and her last date had ended with the guy covered in puke and Mae on the back of a tractor. Mae needed a friend with her. Just to be safe.

"Well, you're here now!" Mae said, laughing a bit too loudly.

Bombshell had an amused little smile on her face. Why was she always smiling? What did she know? What secrets lurked behind those purple bangs? Mae grabbed a slice of pepperoni and stuffed it into her mouth so as to not make a fool of herself.

Bea and Bombshell shared a look. It was a look that said, 'Can you believe this?' 'No, dude, I can't.'

"So, uh," Bea said. "It looks like you've got everything under control. I'm going to get back to the party. I'll be near the entrance if you need me."

"It was nice meeting you, Bea," Bombshell said as Bea slid out of her seat. Mae frantically grabbed at her friend's sleeve, pulling her close to whisper.

"Don't leave, Bea," Mae said. "I have no clue what I'm doing."

"You'll be fine. Let go," Bea muttered, pulling to get her sleeve free. All the while, Bombshell was just watching.

Eventually, Bea managed to tug herself out of Mae's grip. Her sleeve was a little torn, Mae noticed. Ugh. Mae had used her claws without even realizing it. Great. Bea was gonna be pissed about this.

Beatrice walked away, and soon Mae and Bea were alone in the pizza place. Well, there was Casey, but he might not be real. Still, it was rude of him to sit in on this lovely pizza date without being invited. That was such a Casey move.

"Your friend seems nice," Bombshell said.

Oh, God, she was trying to start a conversation. Act natural, Mae. Act. Natural.

"Oh, yeah, she's pretty cool," Mae said. "She knows a lot about… hammers. And, uh… taxes?"

"Those are important things to know about," Bombshell said, helping herself to another slice of cheese. "God, the pizza here's horrible. Don't hold it against me."

Mae's eyes lit up. Finally, something she could talk about.

"Well, I mean," Mae said. "You obviously haven't heard of the pizza scale."

Bombshell laughed. Again. Always laughing. "The what?" She asked.

Mae took another slice of pepperoni and took a bite, trying to focus. Focus on pizza.

"Well," Mae said. "There's this… scale. And on one end, there's the worst pizza. The uneatable stuff. But, like, everything above that is good as hell. You know? And it keeps going into, like, infinity."

"Profound," Bombshell mused. "Now that I think about it, that makes a lot of sense."

"Thanks," Mae said. "It's an original idea I came up with myself."

Silence. No sound except the ambient music the pizza place played and the noise of people munching on pizza. Despite what she'd said about the scale, Mae had to agree that this pizza was kind of awful. That wasn't gonna stop her from eating it, though.

God, though. What else was there to talk about? Mae didn't know much about this girl, except she had cool hair and was hot as heck. Mae was rusty at the whole dating thing.

Casey had always been good at dating. In the last years of high school, he'd kind of built up a reputation as a playboy. He hadn't been too proud of that reputation, though. Still, Casey had a way with people he was into. What would Casey say in a situation like this?

 _"_ _You should definitely tell her that you seriously injured the last dude you kissed."_

Ugh. No. Wrong. What would the real Casey say? Not dream Casey.

Well, he'd probably be honest. He'd joke around. He'd do what Mae was trying to do, but with more confidence.

Okay. Confidence. Mae could at least pretend to have that.

"So, uh," Mae said as she finished off her third slice of pepperoni. "This might sound a little nuts, but… I came to a party here last month, and I was kind of bummed out that I didn't see you."

Bombshell's smile went from quietly amused to… well, it was just a genuine, flattered smile. "That doesn't sound nuts, honestly," she said. "Okay, maybe it's a little nuts, but no more nuts than some other stuff I've heard."

Mae winced. "Uh, yeah. I guess some stuff I say doesn't make sense to people who aren't me."

Bombshell shook her head. "No, not from you. Although… yeah, you are a little hard to decipher, Borowski. But no, I'm talking about my ex."

"Bad experience?" Mae asked. She knew a little something about relationships not working out. Although she doubted Bombshell's story could top Mae's prom story.

"God, she's this whole thing that that neither of us have time for," Bombshell said.

And this time, they both laughed.

It was only when Mae reached for a fourth slice of pizza that she realized they'd eaten it all. Had they just eaten really, really fast? Or had more time passed? Mae looked up at a clock hanging over the exit and was surprised by what time it was.

"Wow," Mae said. "Didn't realize we'd been here for this long."

"Time is mysterious," Bombshell said. She placed a few bills on the check that had come with the pizza. Slowly, she stretches as she stood up out of her seat. Mae tried her best not to stare.

"This was fun," she said, smiling at Mae. "But I've gotta get going. I have classes tomorrow, and I can't miss them."

"Oh, yeah, me either," Mae said, and immediately regretted it. The two shared some laughter again. It took Mae a few seconds to realize that Bombshell wanted her to walk with her.

The two exited the pizza place and made their way to a small, grey car parked along the sidewalk. Mae noticed a good number of bumper stickers on the rear of the car. Apparently, Bombshell was pretty involved in wildlife groups.

That was cool. Mae wasn't that involved in, like, anything.

"Well, uh," Mae said as she watched Bombshell open up the driver's side door. "I guess I'll see you around, then."

Bombshell smirked. "Not if I see you first," she said. She paused just before she stepped into the car. "Borrrrrowski."

Oh. Jeez. She was doing that again. Mae smiled, waving dumbly as Bombshell drove away from the pizza place and into the night. The last thing Mae saw of Bombshell that night was a hundred bumper stickers telling her to donate to various wildlife funds.

* * *

"So, it seemed like things went pretty good for you," Bea said as the two drove back to Possum Springs.

Mae had been drifting off when Bea spoke. Something about the long dark of a highway at night made her sleepy. "Whazzat?" She mumbled, her eyes half-open.

"Uh. Your Bombshell?" Beatrice said. "You talked to her? You ate pizza? You also tore up my sleeve, but we can talk about that later."

"Yeah, pizza's good," Mae mumbled. "I dunno. She kept, like, laughing and smiling, and it was weird. I think she was making fun of me."

"If she was making fun of you, I don't think she would have bought pizza," Bea commented. "I'm pretty sure she was just flirting with you, Mae. People tend to laugh and smile when they're flirting."

"Do they?" Mae asked. "I mostly just, like, freeze up. Or ruin my chances with them."

"That's a winning strategy right there," Bea snarked.

"You know," Mae said, adjusting herself in her seat to wake herself up, "all this stuff lately, with the making amends, and the ghost in my head, it's gotten my all edgy and sad and weird."

"Wait, what was that about a ghost—"

"But, like, I dunno. Doing normal person stuff made me feel almost normal. Like, eating pizza with a cute girl, or hanging out with you at a club, makes me feel like I'm not a complete nutjob."

Bea gave Mae a worried, disapproving look. "Mae, you're not a nutjob. You've got issues, but they're issues that lots of people go through."

"Bea, I get what you're saying, and I'm sure you're right, but I put a kid in the hospital," Mae said. "There's this big, black thing in my head, and sometimes I feel like it's going to swallow everything."

Bea was quiet. She reached out to turn off the radio. That was a shame. Mae liked the noise. She liked having stuff in the background.

"Are you talking to Dr. Feldman about this?" Bea asked.

Mae groaned. "No. I mean, I'm not… telling him a whole lot. I told him I smoked weed, but—"

"Okay, Mae, you can't just keep saying stuff like that and expect me not to question it," Bea said. "You smoked weed? Why? When?"

"Last Sunday," Mae said. "And, uh… I dunno why. Just felt like a thing to do."

And, there it was; Bea was making the Mom Friend face. Ugh. Mae appreciated her worrying, but she so didn't want to talk about this now. She wanted to sleep. Her stomach was upset from the pizza.

Pizza and talking to a cute girl really took it out of you.

"Mae, I didn't help your parents find this guy so you could not talk to him," Bea said. She had this whole stern but concerned tone to her voice. Cranky Mom Friend. "You tell him all of this shit, okay? Otherwise he won't be able to help you."

"Okay, okay," Mae said. She sighed. The next appointment wasn't for a few weeks. Mae had a feeling she'd have a lot to talk about when the time came. Her headaches and dreams were getting worse. And, to top it all off, the big day was coming up for Gregg and Angus.

No. Now wasn't the time to think about all of this. Mae had had a good night. She'd eaten pizza, talked to a hot girl, and didn't make an ass of herself at that club for once.

This was good. Mae was good.

…

"Aw, frick!"

Mae's outburst nearly caused Bea to swerve off the road. Probably a bad idea to scream in a quiet car like that. Yeah. Bea looked at Mae, a bit of panic in her expression.

"Whoa, what?" She asked. "Are you okay?"

"I forgot to get her details again!" Mae said. She slapped her hands to her face, covering her eyes in shame. "I didn't even get her name! Frigging crap!"

"Wow. This time, you don't even have running after me as an excuse," Bea said. Mae noticed the slightest hint of a smirk on her face. Of course she was smirking. Of course she was. Sarcastic Mom Friend.

"Don't rub it in, Beatrice," Mae grumbled. "I'm already sick from the pizza. I don't need you making me feel worse."

"Hey, I'm just saying, you've gotta step up your game, Maeday," Bea teased. "Keep this up, and you'll grow up into some old, crazy cat lady."

Despite how she was feeling, that made Mae smile a bit. "Eh," she said. "I'm getting there."

The two friends shared a laugh as Bea's car drove down the seemingly endless expanse of highway before them. The night sky met the dark of the road, and in that moment, everything seemed to be connected. Mae stared out into the dark until she finally fell asleep.


	8. Witching in the Woods

Out where the forest met the tracks, in a small patch of grass unobscured by trees, a movie was being made. Maybe 'made' wasn't the right word. The camera wasn't out, and one of the actors hadn't learned her lines. But they were at an important point in the creative process, and, really, the crew only consisted of two people.

Mae wasn't sure if she was dreaming or not when she'd heard Lori M. had written her a part in a movie. Mae thought she might have heard it while she was in her coma. Mae didn't remember it the way you remember something that happened, but the way you remembered a dream. A lot of stuff during that time was fuzzy.

Mae thought she remembered people gathered around her at church. But that didn't make sense. Why would she have been at church? Mae's brain had probably just been playing tricks on her.

Nice try, brain.

"Um, so," Lori said as the two sat on an overturned log. "Thanks for agreeing to help me out with this."

"Dude," Mae said, laughing a bit, "you wrote me a party in a horror movie. I get to be a spooky witch. How could I say no to that?"

"I thought you would, is all," Lori said. "It's not a really good script. I'm, like, terrified I ripped off some other movies subconsciously."

Mae shook her head. The script—the sole copy of it—was lying in her lap. It was really just an old, battered notebook.

It reminded Mae of the old songbook the band had used. After finding it last month, Mae had taken it home with her. She didn't know why. It was just, like, a piece of Casey.

"I think it's good," Mae said. "Lori, when you get to be 20 years old, you'll have seen some crappy movies. Trust me; I know a bad script when I see one." Or so she said. Mae liked Death Chill 2, which was notoriously the worst Death Chill. The Video Outpost didn't even carry it.

Lori seemed a little relieved by Mae's assurances. The poor kid still seemed anxious, though. Mae didn't get why. Making a horror movie, at her age? That was cool. Lori was a cool kid. She deserved to be confident.

"The only problem I have with the script," Mae said, "is that there's only two characters. Don't we need more?"

Lori looked down at her shoes. "Yeah," she said. "I mean no. No, it's fine. Totally fine. Lots of horror movies only have two characters."

"Really?" Mae asked. "Like what?"

Lori lifted her head up. She was apparently drawing information from the repository of horror movie knowledge that lied deep within her skull. "Uh… Cannibal Hacksaw Cottage, Ballet Witch, Deathboy, Angry Nephew…"

"Whoa," Mae said. "Those are definitely some movie titles."

"Yeah, Angry Nephew's really great," Lori said. "It's about this guy whose nephew is really angry."

"No, I guessed that," Mae said.

Lori just nodded. "Uh, anyway, there are only two roles because there's only… two… us." Lori cleared her throat.

"Can't you ask your friends to help you out?" Mae asked. Lori shook her head, embarrassed.

"I mean, I could," she said. "But… I dunno. It's just a thing I'm doing. They have their things, and I have my weird thing."

Mae frowned. Honestly, Lori reminded Mae a lot of herself at that age. Mae had been fairly withdrawn and nervous after the softball incident. She wondered why it was Lori was so anxious. Was it just, like, a brain thing? Or was it something else?

"If you asked your friends, they'd probably be psyched," Mae said.

Lori looked uncertain. "Well, I guess. I dunno. I mostly just don't want anyone to know about my awful script."

"I know about it," Mae said. "And also, it's not awful. Like, if I wrote something like this, it'd be a million times worse. Trust me."

At last, that seemed to cheer Lori up. She looked down at the notebook in Mae's lap and then back up at her. "Okay," she said. "I mean, I guess I could ask. My friends are usually off doing their own thing."

"I could ask some of my friends if they'd be interested," Mae said. "My friend Angus works at the video store, so he probably knows a lot about movies. And my other friend Gregg has knives. That's probably useful in film-making."

Lori hesitated for a moment, but then nodded. "Um, okay. I think I know Angus. I go into the video store sometimes. Just to, like, look at old VHS covers." She seemed ashamed about this somehow. Mae didn't really get it.

It would be more shameful if Lori actually went into the Outpost to rent movies.

* * *

And so, Mae decided to be the pitchman for Thrill Kill Witch Cult: A Lori M. Joint.

That wasn't the full title, but Mae had decided to call it that in her head.

First and foremost, she set out to pitch the movie to her friends. She'd explained the situation to Bea—that she was helping a teenager make a horror movie on her phone—but Bea had just looked at her like she was crazy.

Next up was Angus and Gregg. The best time to talk to her dudes, of course, was when they were both off of work. Mae informed them on Chattrbox that she wanted to talk with them. Gregg and Angus had been fine with inviting her over to the apartment after work.

Must have not been a date night.

And so, with Mae sitting on the floor, and Gregg and Angus were sitting on the couch, Mae began to pitch the greatest movie ever made in Possum Springs.

"So, wait, how do you know this Lori person?" Angus asked.

"I saw her on a roof," Mae answered, as if that explained everything. It must have, because they didn't question her about it anymore.

"Anyway, I really wanna help Lori out with her movie," Mae said. "She's, like, me in the past. Only with horror movies and a sister that's, like, hot in a weird way."

Gregg shrugged, a smile on his face. "I'm game. I've always wanted to die on film."

"Modern movies don't really use film," Angus pointed out. He didn't seem as excited as Gregg at the prospect of making movie magic. Mae vaguely remembered Angus being in some plays back in middle school, but the big guy was still kind of shy.

"This is gonna be great," Mae said. And she meant it. This whole movie business was getting her mind off of her problems. More or less, at least. "Man, I can't wait to kill you guys."

"That's not really surprising," Angus joked, his tone deadpan.

It occurred to Mae that she should probably check how much acting experience they had. Then she remembered the Harfest Play Gregg had been in, and decided that would be a dumb question. Mae loved Gregg like a brother, but an actor he was not. Maybe he could be, like, Angus's stunt double.

As for Mae, her acting experience mostly came from a few Sunday School pageants she'd been in when she was, like, eight. God, those were a nightmare to think about now. Dressing up as, like, a talking tree, or the Broken Snake, or whatever, in front of a dozen moms.

The audience for those pageants was mostly moms. A clearly unbalanced mom-to-dad ratio.

"Thanks a lot for the help, guys," Mae said. Part of her had been worried they would say no. She wasn't sure why she'd thought that. Sometimes people just assume the worst, or something. Lori seemed to do the same thing.

But Mae didn't have time to be worried. Gregg and Angus would be moving soon. This movie might be their last big thing for a while.

And Mae didn't want to let a bad mood or a ghost in her head get in the way of that.

* * *

The first problem that arose in the making of Thrill Kill Witch Cult: A Lori M. Joint featuring Gregg and Angus—aside from the increasingly lengthening title—was Lori's choice for a filming location. Mae's apprehension grew as Lori led them out past the basketball court, to where the state forest met the mines.

They weren't at the mines. Mae would have freaked out if they had been. But they were close enough that it made Mae almost sick with fear.

She hadn't felt… whatever it was she'd felt in her head since last year. That one guy in the mines had described it as 'singing'. Whatever. So what if Lori wanted to film something out here? It was spooky. It was a primo horror movie set. The fact that an actual cult had once hung around the area only added to that.

Gregg and Angus didn't exactly look happy to be back there, either. It didn't really help that, technically, no one was supposed to be out here. It wasn't illegal or anything. Just dangerous, and frowned upon.

Ordinarily, that would make it really cool. But, again, death cult.

"Okay, okay, okay," Lori said hurriedly, her phone clutched in her little teen hands. "Uh, thanks for asking your friends to help out, Mae."

"It was no problem," Angus said.

"Yeah," Gregg said. "Me and the Cap'n have been waiting for our big break. Gonna be stars."

Lori fidgeted a bit. "Well, actually, I don't think many people will see this…" She said.

Gregg said nothing. He politely waited for Lori to realize he had been joking. It took longer than it probably should have, but eventually a look of embarrassed realization dawned on Lori's face.

"Are we, like, actually filming this stuff right away?" Mae asked. "I still don't really know my lines."

"Uh, no," Lori said. "Besides, I haven't added the other characters yet. I thought we'd, like, just hang around the forest and get a feel for it. Does that make sense?"

It kinda did, in Mae's opinion. She wasn't an expert on the acting method, or filmmaking, but she knew a little bit about the feelings a certain place could give you. For example, this place filled Mae with uncomfortable memories of coma headaches and cave-ins.

And dead friends.

And horrible goat gods, maybe?

"So… we came out here to stand around?" Angus asked. "Are we supposed to do something?"

Lori bit her bottom lip. For a moment, Mae worried she was going to start hyperventilating. Well, Mae was ready if that started. She had started to figure out how to help Lori when she got anxious.

Lori surprised Mae, however, by staying fairly composed. "Well, I mean," she said, "we can go over what's written down so far. And, like, you guys can tell me any ideas you have. If you want. You don't have to."

"Wow," Gregg muttered. He and Angus shared a look. Mae wished she knew what they were saying to each other when they did stuff like this. Dumb, perfect couples and their stupid talking without speaking.

And so, three adults and a teenager gathered around to talk about an amateur horror movie. Nothing weird about that. It was just some adults and a kid out in the woods at night, out where nobody could hear them screaming.

Hmm. The more Mae thought about this, the sketchier it seemed.

Thankfully, they had the script to distract them from the intense sketchiness.

In its current state, the movie was about a paranoid woman who wandered into the woods for unclear reasons, and encountered a cult of murder-witches. Seeing as only two parts had been written so far, it was a very small cult. A cult consisting of just Mae.

"I thought of asking some of my friends to play the other cultists," Lori said. "But… I didn't." She didn't add anything on to that. Mae decided to leave it alone. No point in, like, hassling her about all of this.

"Um. I have a question." Angus said. "Why is this cult, like, killing people?"

Lori frowned. "I… had, like, some exposition written up for it, but I couldn't work it in with only the two characters. I dunno. I feel like I keep rewriting this story in my head."

"You're doing pretty good," Mae said. "I tried to write a horror story once in, like, middle school. But I got bored, and then got hooked on this video game about ghosts." And then the softball game had happened, but that didn't really enter into things.

"You never told me you were writing something," Gregg said, surprised.

Mae shrugged. "Eh. I didn't really want anyone to know. It was really bad."

"Wait," Angus said.

"No, no," Mae said hurriedly. "It was really bad. Like, don't make me talk about it. At all. I pretty much just ripped off a bunch of granddad's favorite books."

"No, not that," Angus said. "I smell smoke."

Silence fell on the group as Angus's words sunk in. Mae sniffed the air and felt her nose twitch. She could smell it, too. There was a fire somewhere close. Squinting, Mae looked into the distance and saw an orange flicker among the trees.

"Oh, weird," Lori said. "Guess someone's burning something."

It was good to see that Lori wasn't filled with the same familiar, terrible dread that was currently suffocating Mae, Gregg, and Angus. She wasn't being reminded of something they'd thought was in the past; something they'd hoped was in the past. Mae felt sick. Her heart was pounding in her chest.

A wordless glance was passed around the three adults, while Lori sat looking over her script. All three of them had the same idea.

"Let's go look at the fire," Mae said.

Okay, from the surprised looks she was getting from Gregg and Angus, apparently they hadn't had the same idea. Oh, well. It was out in the open now.

"Uh, why?" Lori asked. She wasn't frightened; just confused. Mae guessed she'd be confused if she were in Lori's shoes. 'Let's go look at the fire' was an odd thing for an adult to say in most situations.

"Yeah, Mae, are you sure?" Gregg asked. "I mean, do you… like, feel something?"

"I feel sick and weird, but we should still go look," Mae said. "You know, to be safe."

Gregg stood up, his hands in his jacket's pockets. With the weather getting warmer, Mae figured Gregg would be switching to something lighter soon. Then again, he loved that jacket. "Well, I've got knives with me, just in case," Gregg said.

"Bug, leaving the house with that many knives is kind of ridiculous," Angus said. He placed a hand on Gregg's shoulder. They both seemed nervous. Mae was right there with them.

"Lori," Mae said. "Go home, okay? I'll come see you tomorrow up on the roof."

"Is this a thing?" Lori asked, concerned. "You should probably tell me if this is a thing."

"It's a thing, but it's our thing," Mae said. "It's our own weird thing."

Silence. Then, Lori asked something Mae hadn't expected. "Can I come?"

"I don't think that'd be best," Angus said.

Lori looked up at the big guy, concern once again showing on her face. "Why? Is it something dangerous? Do you know what that fire is?"

The answer to both of those questions was a resounding 'maybe.' The odds of it actually being a cultist, and not just some guy burning some taxes or something, weren't too high. Even if it was one of the cultists, would they have a gun? Or would they even want to shoot Mae and her friends?

After all, they'd have no way of knowing Mae and the band had been responsible for the cave in that trapped the others. Right? They'd have to be psychic or something. Or at least, like, a detective.

"Okay, fine," Mae said. "Whatever. You can come. Stay behind us, though, okay?"

Lori nodded. She didn't seem excited, or anything. She was taking this seriously. Mae turned and saw the uncertain looks on Gregg and Angus's faces.

"Dude, are you sure?" Gregg asked.

And Mae was sure. After all, Lori reminded her of herself. And there was no way Mae would've listened to someone telling her not to check out a spooky fire in the woods.

* * *

Woods are spooky at night. This is a truth that has been accepted by society since ancient times, when people thought that the world was on a whale's back and hid their pornography inside of logs.

While it wasn't exactly night time yet, it was dark enough that the spook factor of the woods was rapidly rising. Mae, Gregg, and Angus walked side-by-side, their tagalong Lori M. right behind them. Gregg's hands were still in his pockets, likely ready to draw a knife if they bumped into certain robed figures.

The fire was still a distance away. Now that they were moving towards it, though, Mae could see that it was small. And moving. Was it a torch? Who carried around a torch in this day and age? That seemed like a fairly culty thing to do.

Then again, the cultists hadn't been, like, cultists. They'd been a bunch of dads and uncles with guns and smartphones.

Well, dads and uncles and at least one aunt.

Ugh. This was garbage. Why was Mae doing this? She didn't feel like she had last year. Or, at least, she wasn't feeling as bad. Sure, she was having weird dreams, and there was a ghost inside of her head…

Huh. Okay, actually, this was almost exactly like last year. The only difference was it didn't feel like it was eating Mae alive.

The only noises were the ambient sounds of the forest. There were animals crying out in the night, and the sound of twigs snapping underfoot. Mae thought she caught a glimpse of a deer running off to the side, but her focus was squarely on the fire.

"We're being real quiet," Lori whispered. Mae looked over her shoulder, giving the teen what she hoped was a reassuring smile. It came across looking kind of pathetic. Mae really needed to work on her expressions. Lori just looked more scared than anything.

They were getting close now. Mae could actually hear the crackling of the flames. Though it was dark, Mae could just faintly see the figure holding the torch. They were dressed in dark clothes, and had their back to them.

"Shit," Mae whispered, "Is that one of them?"

"I don't know," Angus said. "I mean, we didn't get a good look at any of them last time. It was dark."

"I'm really confused," Lori whispered.

The figure ahead of them froze. Mae and her friends followed suit. The air suddenly felt colder. The light from the stranger's torch figured in the darkening evening air. Slowly, the fire moved as they turned to face Mae and her group.

Then, the figure began to approach them.

"Shit, shit," Mae whispered. "Gregg. Knives. Knives!"

 _"_ _Rock. Grab a rock. Grab a rock and throw it."_

For once, Mae nearly followed the Dream Casey's advice. She felt herself beginning to bend down to grab a rock. She stopped herself, however, when the figure opened their mouth to spoke. What they said nearly froze her in shock:

"Hey, guys," Germ said.

Mae stared, mouth open, at the weirdest member of her group of friends. Germ Warfare was standing in the middle of the woods, a torch in his hand. The whole scene was so surreal that Mae almost thought she was dreaming.

"What're you doing out here?" Germ asked, lifting the torch to better illuminate the scene.

"What are we doing out here?" Mae asked. "What are you doing out here? Why do you have a torch?"

Germ stared at Mae as if what she'd just asked was obvious. Mae guessed that a lot of weird things seemed obvious to Germ.

"I live not too far away," Germ said. "And it's dark."

"Don't you have a flashlight, or something?" Gregg asked. He looked concerned, but now that the panic had died down, Mae got the feeling that he was envious of Germ's torch. Hell, Mae was feeling a little jealous herself. She wished she could carry around a thing that was on fire.

Germ didn't answer Gregg's question. Instead, he looked in Mae's direction. "Hey, Mae, are you okay?" He asked. Mae had gotten used to Germ's abrupt subject changes. What she hadn't gotten used to was how weirdly in-tune Germ was with her. He always seemed to notice when something weird was going on. She didn't know if that meant he was observant, or psychic.

"Germ, could you please step back?" Angus asked. "That torch is really hot."

"Nah, that's just you, Cap'n," Gregg said, and then laughed.

"No, seriously, Mae, are you alright?" Germ asked. "You look weird."

"I'm fine, Germ," Mae said. "You just scared us, is all. Walking around in the dark with an effing torch. We're trying to make a movie here, Germ. We don't have time to get spooked."

Germ looked surprised. Sort of. Again, he was hard to read. "The band is making a movie?" He asked.

"Um, no," Lori piped up. She stepped to the front of the group, into the light of Germ's still unexplained torch. "I am. I'm making a movie."

"Oh, cool," Germ said. Then, prompted by seemingly nothing, he brought forth another of his sudden topic changes. "So, I saw a dude up by the mines yesterday."

Deathly quiet. That's a phrase Mae almost never used, but that's what fell on the group. Except Lori. She was the regular kind of quiet.

It was Gregg who broached the first question. "What were you doing up at the mines?" He asked.

"I go up there a lot," Germ said. "Ever since you guys told me what happened last November. There was a weird dude up there, just staring at the mines."

Lori looked around. The poor kid was completely lost. Mae almost envied her. "Wasn't last November when you had your head injury?" She asked, turning to face Mae. "What is all of this? I really don't understand what's going on."

"I don't, either," Mae said, "and I actually went through it."

Mae closed her eyes and tried to calm herself down. A weird weirdo up at the mines didn't mean anything. It was probably just, like, someone who was really into mines and rocks. It couldn't be one of the cultists, right? Right. The odds were slim. Best to put this out of mind, and focus on anything else.

Deep breaths. In, out, in, out. Mae exhaled sharply before opening her eyes.

"Thanks for the info, Germ," she said. "Let's talk some more about this tomorrow, okay?"

"Uh. Okay," Germ said. "Not a lot more to talk about. It was just a dude."

"A dude at the mines," Gregg muttered. He sounded as nervous as Mae felt.

Germ didn't respond to that. He turned about face and began walking away, taking the heat of the torch with him. Before he left, Mae thought he had given a concerned look in her direction.

Once again, the group of four was all alone in the forest. No one said anything for what felt like the longest time. Wordlessly, they turned and returned to where they'd come from. No one seemed to have the energy to continue the movie talk.

* * *

 _The night sky was cluttered with mismatched, crooked trees. The woods were all around the small field where the party at Possum Leap had been held. The fire didn't give off the light amount of light. It was only as bright as Germ's torch had been._

 _There were other people at the party tonight. Mae couldn't see them, but they were there. They were like the opposite of paper dolls; holes in the shape of people cut out of the night sky. They were all talking amongst themselves. They didn't use words when they spoke. Just noise._

 _Mae tried to block them all out. She sat huddled up in front of the fire, her knees pressed against her chest. Casey sat off to the side, tossing some small twigs into the fire. They looked like twigs, at least._

 _"_ _The woods are always dark, aren't they?" Casey asked. "It's getting dark later, but woods are always dark. Even during the day."_

 _"_ _I want to cry," Mae muttered. "I want to be sick. I want everything to be wrong so I have a reason to feel like I do."_

 _"_ _Everything is wrong," Casey pointed out. "You've got things you can never tell anyone. Those people's families will never get closure. None of us will ever get closure."_

 _"_ _God, shut up," Mae said. Now she was facing Casey. She hadn't moved her head. She was just looking at him. "Are you even real? Like, a real ghost? You don't talk like Casey. You barely act like him. Whenever I try to look at you, you're just…"_

 _"_ _Shapes?" Casey finished._

 _"_ _Just answer the effing question."_

 _The Dream Casey was quiet. He looked at the fire contemplatively. Finally, he sighed, and dusted off his hands._

 _"_ _I don't know," he said. "I can't answer your question, Mae. This stupid town took everything from me, and in the end I'm not sure if I ever really existed."_

 _"_ _That's not a good answer," Mae said._

 _Casey shrugged. "It's the only one you're gonna get."_

 _The two were silent for a long time. All around them, the noise of the invisible partygoers continued. They were getting louder and louder, but Mae couldn't react. She couldn't even cover her ears._

 _All of the empty spaces were being filled. Trees and stars were everywhere. Mae didn't have room to move._

 _She didn't want to, anyway._


	9. The Mines

Mae hadn't slept well the night before. She'd been asleep for the usual ten hours, sure, but she didn't feel rested. Germ's words had been stuck in her brain. She'd tried to dismiss what he said about seeing someone at the mines, but she couldn't. Everything was swimming around in her head.

When Mae woke up from her dream about a sky filled with trees and a party filled with noise, she had already decided on going to the mines. She wasn't going to be able to sleep properly until she saw this guy herself.

Mae hurried on downstairs without logging onto messenger. Bea, Gregg, and Angus were all probably at work, so there was no point in using it to say where she was going. Besides, Mae was just heading out to take a look. They didn't need to worry.

When Mae got down to the bottom floor, she decided it would still be best to go and talk to her mom. Mae turned the corner and walked past the stairs, into the kitchen where Candy Borowski was sitting.

She wasn't reading one of her books this evening. It was a newspaper. Mae's mom had been reading newspapers a lot more lately. Mae could guess why. She was probably hoping to find some news about Aunt Molly.

It hurt to think about that, though.

"Morning, mom," Mae said as she hopped up onto the kitchen counter.

Mae's mom looked up from her paper and gave her daughter a warm smile. "Good morning, movie star," she said. "How did things go last night?"

Mae didn't know how to answer that. They hadn't done a whole lot of movie-making, after all. Mostly, they'd just wandered around in the woods and confronted the weight of their past sins.

"Kinda slow," Mae said after thinking about it a bit. "Got kinda weird after. We saw Germ with a torch in the woods."

"A… torch?" Mae's mom repeated. She barely knew who Germ was, but Mae got the feeling that even she was starting to get a good picture of Germ's weirdness. "Like, a literal torch?"

"Yup," Mae said. "The kind you use to chase Frankensteins."

"That can't be safe," Candy mused. "What if the fire spread? You could burn the whole forest down."

"Well, they'd have more space for parking lots," Mae joked.

That got a laugh out of her mom. Good. A laughing mom cheered Mae up most of the time, and this was one of those times. Her work done, Mae leaped down from the counter.

"Well, I'm heading out," Mae said. "Got some stuff I wanna check out."

"Check out, eh?" Mae's mom asked curiously. "Ooh, is this good news? How's the job hunt going?"

Oh, God. The job hunt. Mae had promised her mom she'd start looking for a job. She'd completely forgotten after everything with the Dream Casey had started up. All in all, Mae had applied to maybe two places in, like, a month, and she'd been turned down by both of them.

"Still waiting to hear back," Mae said quickly. "But, y'know, fingers crossed."

"Fingers crossed," Mae's mom repeated. "Okay, bye-bye, sweetie."

Mae let out a quiet little sigh of relief as she turned to exit the kitchen. She felt guilty about lying to her mom, but she didn't want to let her down, either. Of course, Mae felt like the longer she went without finding a job, the more she was letting her mom down.

It wasn't easy, though. Mae's work experience didn't exactly inspire confidence. Not to mention, most of the business-owners in town knew her as the girl from the softball incident. Either that, or the girl who'd once tried to climb the flagpole outside of the school.

She wound up getting stuck on top of that flag pole for nearly six hours. The fire department had to come in to get her down, but she ended up just falling off of the pole and landing on Tim Whitley.

Oh, yeah. That was another person Mae needed to make amends to.

Mae had completely lost her train of thought by the time she made it to the front door.

* * *

Mae had more or less made a beeline towards the old basketball courts that sat on the edge of the woods. She didn't stop to say hi to anyone, which was a bit weird for a social butterfly like herself. Mostly, Mae just didn't want to worry anyone, or let anyone see her acting strange.

It was just one guy, right? Mae probably didn't need help. No need for her friends to get all scared and protective and stuff. Probably.

Of course, once Mae made it out to the Food Donkey parking lots, she realized she'd forgotten one little detail: Germ. The little guy seemed to always be hanging out in the parking lot, and today was no exception. There he was, right in front of her.

He'd already seen her, so there was no way Mae could just, like, walk past him. Or maybe she could? It'd be rude, but Germ probably wouldn't mind. Germ was kind of a rude dude himself.

Whatever. Mae decided the best thing would be to just wave as she passed him by.

So she did just that. Mae gave Germ a friendly smile and lifted her hand as she walked past him.

"Hey," Germ said. Then, he immediately began following Mae.

It took Mae a few feet to realize he was tagging along. She stopped, turning around and looking at Germ. He had the same, Germy expression on his face. Mae had seen Germ smile, but it seemed like even when he was happy, Jeremy Warton defaulted to a blank, mysterious stare.

"Were you following me?" Mae asked slowly. Obvious question. If he was just walking home, he wouldn't be directly behind Mae. He'd be off to her right, to walk past the stairs and the basketball court. As it was, he was poised to walk up the stairs along with her.

"Yeah," Germ said. "You going to the mines?"

God dammit. Was Germ psychic or something? "Yeah…" Mae said slowly. "I'm just gonna check it out. See if I see the weird dude you saw."

"I mean, he didn't look all that weird," Germ said. "He just looked like a normal dude. Except he was staring at the mines. For, like, a long time."

"Yeah, see? That's weird." Mae said. "Nobody should stare at mines except for, like… miners."

"I mean, I can show you where I saw him," Germ said. "You probably shouldn't be out there alone anyway. You look bad."

He was probably right. Mae's head was throbbing, and her whole body felt tired. It was a repeat of last November, alright. Maybe not as bad, but definitely not good. Still, Mae didn't exactly like him pointing it out. Stupid, concerned Germ.

"I'm fine," Mae mumbled. "I'm good. You don't have to follow me, Germ."

"Okay," Germ said. "I'm still going to, though."

"I appreciate your honesty," Mae said. She sighed, too tired to argue this any further. "Fine. Adventure time with Germ. Let's go. You'll see what you missed out on last year."

The gang had filled Germ in on what had happened to them a few days after the incident in the mine. He'd thrown dynamite into a well for them, so it was the least they could do. It was difficult to tell how much of the story Germ believed, but he at least took their story seriously. Seriously enough to stake out the mine fairly regularly, it seemed.

Mae continued to march her way up the stairs that connected to the old basketball court, Germ in tow. Mae didn't know if this place had ever really been used for basketball. Mostly, it was just a place for the local skater kids and Gregg to hang out.

Well, Gregg had tried to be a skater kid. Tried and failed. Repeatedly.

It wasn't much of a basketball court now, though. There were no basketball… towers. Is that what you called them? Mae was going to call them that from now on.

"Hey, Germ," Mae said. "What do you call the… things you use to play basketball? Like, the big sticks with the baskets on them."

"Hoops," Germ said.

"What? The whole thing is called a hoop?" Mae asked. "But, like, the only hoopy part is the baskety thing. Why is the whole thing called a hoop?"

"It's the rules," Germ said simply. "You gotta call it a hoop."

Okay, this was all just making Mae more upset. Basketball was stupid.

* * *

Woods, woods, woods. Mae felt like a significant portion of her life in Possum Springs was spent in the woods. The woods were where the parties were held, and where teens got up to their nonsense. Even these woods, which were supposed to be off-limits, had seen their fair share of teenage malarkey.

Walking this path made Mae nervous. Her last few experiences in these woods weren't exactly good. She'd been shot at, for one. That was kinda bad. The second time, someone else had gotten shot, but they kind of had it coming.

Hmm. Mae hoped nobody got shot at this time.

"Hey, Germ," Mae said, "you live close by, right?"

"Sorta," Germ said. "Kinda. I don't tell anyone where I live."

Mae nodded. "Yeah, I think Gregg mentioned that once. Is your family, like, really embarrassing?"

Germ shook his head. He was walking side-by-side with Mae now. That was kind of nice. Mae liked hanging out with someone she was taller than. Hopefully, Germ wouldn't grow any more in his life.

"I like to keep my home life and social life seperate," Germ said. "I mean, I almost invited you over to dinner once."

That caught Mae off-guard. That was mostly because the idea of eating dinner at Germ's house was so mysterious. For some reason, Mae pictured Germ's family as, like, a clan of trickster wizards. That was probably wrong, huh?

"It was last year, when you were going through your stuff," Germ explained. "I thought you deserved a chance to, you know, chill. I decided against it, though. I was nervous about you meeting my gramma."

"The spooky one?" Mae asked.

"The only one," Mae said. "But, yeah, she's real spooky. I was worried she'd scare you off. She's kinda weird."

"My granddad was kinda weird," Mae said. "He kept a tooth in a safe."

"That's some secret society shit right there," Germ said.

The trees were beginning to clear away as they grew closer and closer to the mines. They were nearing the old mining equipment now. It was a graveyard for the things that had built up Possum Springs. It was so weird to think of what this place must have been like, and what the town must have been like, back when the mine was running. Back when the town wasn't dying.

Those guys in the mine said that what they were doing was keeping the town alive. Mae had given a lot of thought to what they'd said, but it didn't add up to her. Lots of bad things had happened since they'd started feeding that… thing. Businesses had closed, streets had flooded, people had died or gotten run over by runaway parade floats…

Had their sacrifices even done anything? Somehow, the idea that Casey died for no reason hurt even more than the idea that he died for some crappy old guys' retirement plan. Not like the reason mattered, really. But Mae wanted Casey's death to mean something, at least.

 _"_ _Pretty amazing to be something, at least."_

"Hey, Mae?"

Germ's voice brought Mae back to reality. Germ was staring at her. Was that concern in his expression, or just confusion? How long had Mae been standing there among the old machines and carts?

"Sorry," Mae muttered. "I spaced out there."

"Do you wanna take a few minutes?" Germ asked.

Mae appreciated that Germ hadn't suggested turning around entirely. With the way Mae's head felt, a rest sounded good. She promptly fell into a sitting position on the old, dusty ground. Germ joined her, his hands in his lap.

"I been up here before," Germ said. "Back when I was a senior."

Mae nodded. She hadn't been in Possum Springs then, of course. She probably spent Germ's graduation day sleeping in her room, trying not to cry. College had been garbage.

"Did you see anything weird?" Mae asked. Germ shook his head.

"Nah, it was a party. Tim Whitley was in town and wanted to do a, like, homecoming thing. Me, Casey, and Gregg went."

Mae chuckled. "Wow, you went to a college party in high school? I'm kinda jealous."

"It wasn't a lot of fun," Germ said. "It was cold and windy, and Casey spent all night making out with some girl. He almost didn't come home."

"Yeah, that sounds like Casey," Mae mused. "He was big on smooching, and being smooched. He was, like, the first one of us to actually get kissed."

Germ nodded slowly. Mae wasn't sure what that meant, exactly, but whatever.

"I've only kissed, like, two people," Mae said. She paused, and then decided to be honest. "Well, one-and-a-half. I don't think Cole counts that much. What about you?"

"I like skating," Germ said. "I don't have a lot of interest in, like, kissing. It's kinda dumb."

Mae considered Germ's view on things. Looking at him, she wondered if it was even possible for him to kiss someone. His beak was kind of… out there. Yeah. Probably poke someone's eye out. Then again, it was kinda round. Maybe it'd mostly just get in the way of things?

Wait, why was Mae thinking so much about kissing Germ? This was stupid.

"I mean, I might be interested if I really liked someone," Germ said. "But mostly I think I'd just want to, like, play video games and skateboard with them."

"Those are good relationship goals," Mae said. "I'd want to wrestle with them. Then live with them on a farm in Iowa."

"Iowa's big and empty," Germ said. "Good place for a farm."

"Yeah, I don't know why I wanna live with them on a farm," Mae said. "I've never really even been on a farm. Ever since I was a kid, though, I've wanted to, like, spend my life on a farm with… whoever. And have two cats, and a dog, and howl at the moon with them."

Things got quiet for a bit. It was nice out. The sun was in the sky, and the weather was pleasantly warm. Mae would probably switch to short sleeves sooner or later. Maybe. Eh. Changing clothes was a hassle.

Mae stood up and stretched out. Her head did feel a little bit clearer after resting. Germ stood up as well, and without a word, they were walking again. It wasn't much further until they reached the cliff overlooking the mine. Hopefully this time, they wouldn't see a bunch of dudes getting ready to kill someone.

Mae didn't like the silence, but she couldn't really think of what to say. Germ was kind of hard to start a conversation with. Back in January, she'd tried talking to him about getting some dynamite, and he'd started talking about the time he got a concussion.

Thankfully, they only had to walk for a few minutes. Soon, Mae and Germ were standing on the rocky cliff that Mae had stood on less than a year ago. Looking down at the mine, Mae half expected to see a gathering of hooded figures again. But no.

Nothing but rocks, and a thing that used to be a thing.

"Last time I saw him, he was down there," Germ said, and pointed to the spot in front of the mine's sealed entrance. Lots of rocks were poking out of the entrance's wooden frame. Jeez. That cave-in had really done a number on the mine, huh?

"Did he, like, notice you?" Mae asked.

Germ shook his head. "Nah, I'm pretty quiet. People don't notice when I'm watching them."

Mae took a minute to fully register what Germ had just said. "Wait, Germ, you don't, like, stalk people, do you?"

Germ opened his mouth to speak, but another, deeper voice interrupted him. It came from directly behind them, on the trail that lead into the woods.

"The hell are you kids doing out here?"

Mae let out a little scream. She couldn't help herself. She noticed that even Germ looked a bit surprised. Slowly, Mae turned, and found herself looking at a tall, middle-aged man dressed all in flannel, eyeing both of them suspiciously. He looked familiar, but Mae couldn't quite place it.

Possum Springs was a small town, so it'd make sense that Mae had seen him before. He was probably someone's dad.

Lots of people's dads were probably out in the woods.

Apparently, Mae wasn't the only one who recognized someone. The man squinted a bit at Mae, clearly trying to place her face. Mae fidgeted a bit, nervous as the man studied her.

"Wait, Mae? Mae Borowski?" The man said.

"Uh, no." Mae said quickly. "No, I'm… June. June Muddy."

The man's harsh, distrustful expression dissolved into a friendly smile. "Yeah, you're Mae, alright," he said. "The hell are you doing out here, Borowski? This place is supposed to be off-limits."

The man's eyes darted to Germ, whose nervousness had been replaced by the same blank expression. The stranger looked back at Mae, his eyebrow raised. "This isn't really a good place for a date. All these old rocks are death traps."

Yeah, Mae knew that better than most people.

"We aren't here on a date," Mae said.

"That somehow makes being out here even weirder," the man pointed out.

"I was gonna show Mae a dead buck I found," Germ said. His tone was completely natural and unchanged. Mae was surprised. She hadn't pegged Germ for a good liar. She wondered if Germ was constantly lying all the time, and no one realized it.

The man winced a bit, clearly grossed out. "Had it been shot?" He asked.

"Nope. Just dead."

"What's a dead buck doing up by the mines?" The man asked. "Deer usually don't come out here. Something about the place spooks 'em."

Mae could understand that. She had some firsthand spook experience with the mines. Deer were probably, like, super smart, and knew all about cults and stuff. But they weren't smart enough to avoid getting shot by hunters. Heh. Stupid deer.

God, though, who was this guy? He was weirding Mae out. She knew she'd seen him before.

"So, like, speaking of why people are at the mines…" Mae said, "Why are you at the mines?"

The man's smile seemed to falter a bit. He tried to hide it, but there was no mistaking that look. Mae often got that look when she asked people questions that she apparently shouldn't ask. Seemed like this was an off-limits topic.

"I come up here every now and then," the man said. "I worked up here for a while after I graduated from school. I started coming up here after they closed it down. Just, you know, to look around."

The man's attention seemed to shift beyond Mae and Germ, to the mine's entrance down below the cliff. Mae didn't like how focused he was on it. It was like he was trying to look through the rocks and stone.

"Looks like there was a cave-in sometime last year," the man muttered, his voice slow and thoughtful. "Probably some bootleggers messing around's what caused it. Hope no one was in there when it happened."

Oh god. Oh god. Mae felt a chill pass over her whole body. Did he know? Was he one of them? With the way he said it, Mae didn't know if he was just stating a fact… or accusing her. Even if he was a member of the cult, though, he couldn't know that Mae and her friends had caused the cave-in. Right?

Mae tried to say something to brush all of this off, but she couldn't find her words. She was speechless. That didn't happen often. Thankfully, Germ spoke up and saved her the trouble.

"Probably wasn't no one down there," he said. "I mean, most people avoid the mines."

Germ was certainly playing it cool. Well, as cool as he usually played it. Still, it was easy for him to stay calm. He hadn't almost died in a hole and communed with an eldritch horror. At least, as far as Mae knew, he hadn't done those things.

The man seemed to consider Germ's words, and then nodded. "Yeah, yeah," he said. "You're probably right there. I guess I'm worrying over nothing." The man gave a smile that was all teeth. It freaked Mae out a little.

"Well," the man said, "I'll leave you two alone to look for your deer. Say hello to your dad for me, Mae."

Was this one of her dad's old work friends? Mae only knew a few of them. She hadn't seen any of them since she was, like, eight. Mae doubted she'd really recognize any of them like she recognized this guy.

"Sure," Mae said. Her fear that this man was one of the cultists was about on par with her shame at not knowing who he was. "It was weird seeing you again, mister… you."

Well, that pretty much let the cat out of the bag. When he realized Mae had no idea who he was, a look of confusion appeared on his face. Also, he looked a little hurt? Mae might have just been imagining that, though. She might have been imagining a lot of things.

The man didn't correct her, however. He just gave her a brief nod, and turned to walk off the way he came. Mae watched him walk off until he was out of earshot, and then tilted her head to whisper to Germ.

"Dude," She said. "Was that the guy you saw?"

"I dunno," Germ said. "Maybe. Sure. I only saw him from behind. I mean, he seemed weird enough."

"Yeah, he definitely did," Mae said.

Mae watched the man shrink down smaller and smaller as he walked into the distance. Eventually, he disappeared on the horizon as he walked down the hill and out of Mae's sight. It wasn't until Mae was certain that he wasn't coming back that she let loose the breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding.

* * *

The walk back into town was quiet and uneventful. Mae was still trying to wrap her head around the things the man had said. There was no way he didn't know about people dying in the cave-in, right? That was how it seemed, at least. But did he know Mae had been involved? If he did, how did he know?

The gang needed to know about this. When Mae got home, she could contact them on messenger. Let them know what had happened. For now, Mae just wanted to get home. If she and Germ hurried, Mae would make it in time for dinner.

Mae had expected Germ to part ways by the time they reached the old basketball court, but he continued to follow her well into town. That was a little odd. Mae didn't mind too much, though. It was nice to have some company.

They stopped once they reached the Snack Falcon, and Mae turned to say her goodbyes to Germ.

"Hey, so, like," Mae said, "thanks for hanging with me today. It was good to have you around."

Mae thought she detected the faintest hint of a smile on Germ's face. She might have been imagining it, though. "No problem," he said. "I had fun."

That was surprising. "Did you?" Mae asked.

"Eh," Germ said, shrugging slightly. "I mean, it was a weird bad time, but it was cool to spend time with you. We should hang out more."

"I check in on you, like, every day, dude," Mae pointed out. That was true. She'd started thinking of the Food Donkey's parking lot as Germ's lair. Could parking lots be a lair? Did a lair have to have, like, walls and stuff?

Whatever.

"Yeah, I guess," Germ said. "I mean, it'd be cool to do something sometime."

"What, like skateboarding?" Mae asked. "I don't skateboard. Casey tried to teach me once, but I couldn't figure out how to turn." That had been embarrassing. A bunch of cool skater kids had watched her eat it. Still, she hadn't been as bad as Gregg.

Germ was quiet. He seemed to be thinking of something to say, but couldn't decide on anything. Mae was used to Germ just blurting stuff out most of the time. Him apparently not knowing what to say was weird.

"No," he said. "I mean, I'd kind of like to be better friends. Gregg's gonna be moving soon. It'd be cool to have someone to do something with."

Mae felt a feeling that she didn't have words for. On the one hand, what Germ was saying made her sad. Gregg moving away was, like, bittersweet. But, on the other hand, Mae got what Germ was saying. She really did.

If Gregg was going to be gone, maybe something could be made with the stuff he'd left behind.

'Left behind' didn't feel like the right word for it, but the sentiment felt right.

"I get you," Mae said. A smile slowly crept onto her face. "But if we're gonna hang out more, I've gotta ask you something. Tell me, Jeremy: what's your opinion on _crimes_?"


	10. 21

"I've had kind of a full plate," Mae said. "I think it's pretty understandable that I forgot about it."

"Mae, people don't generally forget their own birthdays," Bea pointed out. "You're, like, 60 years too young to forget stuff like that."

Mae was sitting on the edge of Bea's bed while her best available friend sat at the head. Some sort of hardware catalogue was open in Mae's lap. It didn't look like a very exciting read. Mae remembered Casey used to have a bunch of gun catalogues that were really neat. Guns were cooler than screwdrivers.

The two had met up after Bea got off from work. It was a day or two after Mae and Germ's trip to the mines, and Mae had filled all of her friends in on what had happened. Mae had expected that to be the main topic of conversation, and it had been for a while.

However, after Mae had dinner with Bea and her dad, the topic of Mae's birthday plans eventually came up. It was only after a moment of silence that Mae realized she'd completely forgotten she was turning 21.

"It's no big deal," Mae said, but she was lying. How could she have forgotten her own birthday? Back in high school, she would have been counting down the days to her birthday and hassling her parents about parties. Had birthdays stopped being a big deal? When had that happened?

A 21st birthday was important, too. It was, like, the last big milestone. After you turned 21, you didn't have anything to look forward to except the age where you started getting senior discounts.

Not that Mae thought she was going to be much of a drinker. Probably. After all, the last time she had alcohol, it had turned out pretty disastrous. She'd puked right in front of Cole.

Where were the odds that Cole would be involved in two puke-related mishaps? That guy was just a magnet for puke misfortune.

"Did you not want to do anything this year?" Bea asked. "Or did you actually completely forget?

"I think we both know the answer to that, Beebee," Mae said. She sighed, falling back onto the bed. "My last birthday was such a nonthing, I guess I kind of forgot about this one."

Bea raised a brow. "What happened on your last birthday?" She said it slowly and cautiously. Bea knew that Mae's breakdown at college was still a sensitive subject. Mae might have been over college, but she wasn't over what had happened.

"Parents called. Didn't answer," Mae said. "Gregg sent an email. Didn't respond. My roommate was out doing some gorilla theater thing—"

"Guerrilla theater," Bea corrected.

Mae looked up at Bea from her laying position. The whole world was upside down. Weird. Why you upside down, Beatrice? That's not how gravity works, dummy.

"That's what I said. Gorilla theater. Like gorilla soldiers."

Bea frowned. "I can't tell if you're mispronouncing this, or if you think guerrilla soldiers are actual gorillas with guns."

That threw Mae off. She sat up and turned towards Bea, confused. "Aren't they?"

The blank look Bea gave to Mae didn't really answer her question. Beatrice sighed, bringing her hand to her face to rub at the bridge of her… snout? Was it called a snout? Mae was going to call it a snout.

"Mae, I'm too tired from work to explain this to you," she said. "Do you want to do anything for your birthday or not?"

Mae thought about it, and gave a shrug. "I mean, I do want to do something. It's just, without Pastabilities, I don't know what I'd want to do. Big Sal made some of my best birthdays."

Taco Buck was great, but it couldn't replace the pizza memories in Mae's heart.

Bea flipped absent-mindedly through the hardware catalogue. "So, what," she said, "you just want to eat pizza for your birthday?"

Mae frowned. "I can eat pizza any day, Beatrice. I want to have fun. I wanna party. We should all get together and do something, like go to Vegas, or steal a boat, or something."

"I mean, there's a club out in Hunwick," Bea said. "It's a little bit of a drive, but not too bad. We could all head out there some time this weekened."

"This weekend?" Mae asked. "Bea, my birthday isn't on the weekend."

"No," Bea said, speaking slowly again, "but we all have work, Mae. Everything opens late on Sunday. If we go out on Saturday, we can stay out later."

"Having a birthday party when it's not actually your birthday seems… perverse," Mae mused.

"It's a perverse world, Maeday," Bea sighed. "If the club idea doesn't sound good, I'm sure your parents will help you come up with something."

Mae didn't really need to think about it. The club idea sounded good. It would be fun to go to a club that didn't have Jackie or Andy Cullen at it. Plus, Mae had never been at a club with Gregg before. He'd probably try to dance. That'd be hilarious.

"Bea, this is a good idea, and you're a smart cookie," Mae said happily. "Let's spend my birthday clubbing. At a club. The birthday club."

* * *

On Mae's actual birthday, she and her parents enjoyed a nice dinner at Taco Buck, and then cake at home. A birthday at Taco Buck was nice, but it wasn't the same without Big Sal coming over and wishing her a happy birthday.

Mae wondered what Big Sal was up to now that Pastabilities was gone. She hoped he was doing okay. She hoped he still made pizzas.

When Mae had told her parents about the plan to go to a club with her friends, they'd been cool with it. She was an adult, after all, and they told she didn't need their permission. When parents said something like that, though, it sounded like she totally did.

They were probably worried about her. Mae was 21, and she was going to be at a place where alcohol happened. But Mae was confident that she wouldn't indulge.

Ugh. 'Indulge' sounded pretentious. Whatever.

Eventually, the big day came. Well, the big day after the big day. Also, it was night time, so it really wasn't a big day. More like a big evening.

Whatever.

The sky was turning a dark orange by the time they were on the way to Hunwick. Mae and Bea sat in the front seats, while Gregg, Angus, and Germ had been crammed into the back.

The drive to Hunwick only took an hour, but Mae felt herself feeling antsy less than fifteen minutes into the trip. For some reason, this whole thing felt really adult. Mae wasn't sure why. It was just going to be the five of them hanging out and pretending to dance.

Maybe they'd get ice cream afterwards. Who knew?

In the back seat, a conversation was brewing.

"No, dude, it's like a donut," Gregg explained emphatically. "But it's, like, a long tube that's been sprinkled with sugar. The ones we got at that Mexican place had, like, fruit inside of them."

"I know what a churro is," Germ said. "You don't have to tell me what a churro is, Gregg."

"Yeah, okay, so it's like fried dough," Gregg continued. "You can, like, drizzle chocolate on them, and they're crunchy… God, they're just perfect, dude."

"Why do you keep doing this?" Germ asked. "Stop telling me about churros."

Mae, for one, was very interested in learning more about churros. That being said, Gregg had been describing them for the last five minutes. It was making Mae hungry. She hoped they had churros at this club. Did they serve food at clubs?

That was a dumb question. What kind of place didn't serve food?

"If you don't stop talking about churros, Gregg, I am seriously going to make you ride in the trunk," Bea said testily. Annoyed Mom Friend.

"If you do that, I'm riding with him," Angus said. Protective Dad Friend.

Mae looked into the rearview mirror and watched as Gregg leaned against Angus, laughing appreciatively. Looking at them like this made Mae feel even guiltier about how she felt. They were so happy. They had a future out in Bright Harbor, but Mae couldn't stop feeling all… conflicted and shit.

Mae's gaze shifted towards the reflection of the backseat's other occupant. She saw Germ, sitting behind the driver's seat, staring straight at the mirror. It was like he was staring into her eyes.

Mae might have bonded a little with Germ, but he was still a weird, creepy man.

Then again, having a friend who was weird and creepy was cool. Did he have to keep staring, though?

Wait. Was he actually staring? Mae realized that, with Germ's big, unblinking eyes, it kind of looked like he was always staring at something. Mae found herself feeling sorry for Germ. She could sympathize with someone else who had nightmare eyes.

In the backseat, the topic of conversation had moved on from churros to crepes.

* * *

Mae was pretty big on parties, and on fun in general. One would expect that would mean she had a bit more experience with clubs, but that wasn't the case. Possum Springs was in the middle of nowhere, so most of the parties Mae had been to were house parties and bonfire get-togethers. Really, the only club Mae had been to was the weird basement that Jackie held her parties in.

The club in Hunwick, which was inexplicably called the Beaver's Rook, wasn't a basement. It was an actual brick building, with walls and everything. What's more, instead of a creepy set of stairs that lead into a cellar filled with dorks and social mistakes, there was a door. Hell, there was even a line. Not a long line, but a line nonetheless.

"How's this place even stay open?" Mae asked Bea while they waited in line. Beebee just shrugged.

"I mean, there's an agricultural college a few towns over," Bea said. "Farm kids probably come here every so often."

"Wouldn't they go to a club somewhere closer?" Mae asked. "Also, why is this place called the Beaver's Rook?"

"Beavers don't even have rooks," Angus pointed out.

"This whole place is a mystery!" Mae said, throwing her hands into the air.

After a few minutes, they were at the front of the line. Mae watched in confusion as the big, beefy guy at the front pressed a stamp onto the back of Bea's hand before letting her in. When it was Mae's turn, the bouncer looked at her expectantly.

"Photo ID?" He asked.

Mae looked at him as if she'd been asked something in a foreign language. Photo ID? Mae didn't even carry a wallet. She didn't think she carried a photo ID. She didn't really have much use for one. Everyone in Possum Springs knew who she was. More or less.

"Why do you need an ID?" Mae asked. "I'm 21."

"I'm not gonna believe that unless I see an ID," the bouncer said. "You look, like, 16."

Mae wanted to say something witty in retort. Something like, '16 my ass!' or 'Your face is 16!' But she decided against it. Having an outburst around a dude whose job was to literally throw people out of buildings sounded like a bad idea. Instead, Mae reached into her pockets and began fishing around.

Taco Buck receipt, pretzel crumbs, Donut Wolf receipt, bass pick she never used, some sort of dust bunny, library card, belt buckle, weird toy alligator, journal and pen…

Aha! Mae felt the stiff, laminated edges of what she'd been looking for. With a triumphant flourish, she whipped out the college ID she'd gotten at school. The flashbulb had gone off at the worst time, and Mae's eyes made her look like a hell demon, but there was no denying it was her.

The bouncer took the ID and inspected it for a second. He returned it to Mae with a nod. "Okay, go on ahead. Happy birthday."

"Oh. Thanks," Mae said as she stuffed the ID back into her weird, big pockets. Smiling to herself, Mae went ahead on into the club.

She was immediately caught off-guard.

The lighting and mood of the club was very similar to the one Mae and Bea usually went to. A small, circular bar loaded with brightly colored drinks of all sorts sat in the middle of what was probably supposed to be the dancefloor. At the back of the club was a stage. Rather than a DJ, it looked like some rockabilly band was setting up.

Almost everyone else was dressed in camo, or flannel, or was wearing a trucker cap. Country décor hung on the walls. The thought crossed Mae's mind that this was probably what the inside of Casey's head had looked like. Country Trash Proud, he'd called himself.

Bea was standing off to Mae's side while the rest of the gang filed in. "This place was… different the last time I came here," she said.

"When were you here before?" Mae asked. While the band was setting up, a country song about someone's dead dog started playing. Music like this always made Mae think of her uncle's pickup truck.

Mae's uncle wasn't even that into country music. His pickup truck was just very, very country.

"Like, eight months ago? I think?" Bea said. "The Turner twins were having a birthday. Do you remember them?"

"I mean, they were the only twins in Possum Springs, Bea," Mae pointed out. Aside from that, Mae didn't know much about Doug and Dana Turner. She remembered Doug had tried to grow a mustache once. It hadn't gone well.

"Oh, man," Gregg said as he joined them. "This place reminds me of the Tex-Mex place my cousin owned before that drug bust."

"Why did you decide to celebrate Mae's birthday at a honky-tonk?" Angus asked.

"It wasn't like this last time!" Bea shouted out. "It was, like, all ravey and shit!"

"This place makes my skin feel weird," Germ said.

With that, everyone had said something in the conversation. Mae was proud of her friends for all talking.

"Well, it's not so bad," Mae said cheerfully. "I mean, we're all pretty country, right? Possum Springs is kind of country."

"Possum Springs is, like, the sad kind of country," Angus said. "This is the happy kind of country. Only the happy kind of country has rockabilly music."

"Shit, Cap'n, we've gotta dance to that suff," Gregg said happily. Angus just chuckled in response. Mae couldn't really picture Angus dancing. Or Gregg dancing, for that matter. Only Mae and Bea had the moves.

The five made their way to the bar in the center of the club. A tall, familiar-looking man in a trucker cap stood behind the counter. "Welcome to Beaver's Roost," the man said.

It took Mae a moment to place his face, since it had been a month or two since she'd seen him. Eventually, though, she recognized him as the world's worst conversationalist. "Hey," she said. "You're Buck, right? We met a while ago."

"I'm Buck," Buck said. "I work here on Tuesdays nights."

"It's Saturday," Mae pointed out. This didn't seem to faze Buck, as he simply walked to the other side of the bar to begin fixing drinks. With a shrug, Mae hopped up onto one of the bar stools. Bea and Germ soon joined her, while Gregg and Angus stood behind them. There weren't enough stools for the gang, sadly.

Bea opened her mouth to speak, and Mae instantly knew that she was about to kick into full Mom Friend mode. "Now, Mae," Bea said, "if you drink anything tonight, take it easy. Make sure you get food and water."

Mae let loose a long, tired moan as she rolled her eyes. "Bea, I wasn't even planning on drinking," she said. "Seriously. Anyway, after the last time, I'm sure I'd be able to handle myself. I learn from my experiences."

"Do you, though?" Bea asked.

"She'll be fine, dude," Gregg said, slapping Bea on the back. "She's gonna have four of us watching out for her."

"I didn't agree to this," Germ said. "Let the girl live her life."

Once again, Mae had no idea if Germ was joking or not. That seemed to happen a lot with the little guy. Dude needed to work on his delivery. Dude needed to work on a lot of things.

Bea just sighed. Mae got the feeling that, even with four chaperones, Bea was still worried. Mae kind of got that. She was a real handful. So long as she didn't drink, though, Mae would be completely fine. And what kind of situation could possibly arise that would drive Mae to drink?

The music playing from the speakers began to die down, and the sound of mic feedback filled the air. On stage, the lead singer for the rockabilly band was speaking into his microphone. Mae couldn't make out anything he was saying. After a few seconds of the band's garbled intro, music filled the air.

"Oh god. Oh god," Gregg said. His arms began flailing at his sides as he got into the groove of things. "Dude! Dude dude dude dude dude! Cap'n, come on, let's go!" Gregg reached out and took hold of Angus's hand. Mae almost expected Angus to refuse, but the big guy simply laughed and followed Gregg out onto the dancefloor.

Watching them out there, Mae realized she had been completely correct: neither of them could dance. Poor nerds.

Mae's attention was pulled away from her best friends' gyrations by Buck, the inexplicable bartender. "Can I get you guys anything?" He asked.

Bea looked down at the indistinct, black ink stain that had been pressed on the back of her hand. When Mae looked to her left, she saw that Germ had a similar symbol. It must have been some mark for lame kids who couldn't drink, so that the bartenders knew to laugh at them.

"I'll just have a Fiascola," Bea sighed.

"Smoothie," Germ said. That got him a few odd looks.

"Like, are you asking for a smoothie, or just saying smoothie?" Buck asked.

Germ shrugged. "Whatever," he said.

Buck followed suit, and shrugged as well. "Whatever," he said.

Mae's turn. It came down to this. Mae knew that ordering a beer or something was probably a bad idea. On the other hand, she was 21 now. She probably had to get used to booze, otherwise all of the other adults would think she was lame. Still, was the gross taste of beer really worth it?

Then again, there were other drinks. There was, like, cocktails, and vodka, or whatever. One of those was bound to taste good, right? Not all alcohol tasted nasty, right? Right! Mae could try something new! She was an adult! She wasn't some kid!

"What alcohol tastes the most like soda?" Mae asked, trying her best to sound sophisticated.

"Uh… I could make a cocktail with cola in it," Buck said.

Mae smiled, nodding confidently. "Alright. Okay, good. I'll take a medium one of those, please." A medium was probably a safe bet, right?

As Buck went off to prepare their drinks, Bea shot Mae another Mom Friend look. "You literally just said you weren't planning on drinking," she said.

Mae shrugged. "We both know I'm not great at planning stuff out, Beebee. I live in the moment. I'm a wild card." She paused, her confidence fading slightly. "Besides, I figured I should at least try something."

"Well, you'd better not drink too much," Bea said with a sigh. "I'm paying for this, but I'm not made of money."

After only a few minutes, the drinks arrived. While Gregg and Angus attempted to shake what their assorted mothers gave them, Buck set out three glasses go Germ, Mae, and Bea. They were all the same sized glass. Had Mae not gotten a medium? Mae suspected she hadn't gotten a medium.

Also, instead of a smoothie, Germ had just been given a little plastic bottle of milk. He didn't seem to mind.

As the band shifted into a slower song and Gregg and Angus returned to the group, Mae pulled the cocktail over to her. It looked like a soda. It kind of smelled like a soda. But, apparently, it had, like, beer in it. Or something. Maybe this wouldn't be so bad.

"Man, we're both awful dancers!" Gregg exclaimed happily. Mae normally would have made some sort of snappy remark, but instead she was focusing on that there cocktail. She placed her lips on the straw and began to drink.

"Honestly, Bug, I don't think anyone can blame us," Angus said. "Neither of us knew what we were doing."

"Oh, shit," Gregg said.

Mae didn't know what he was saying 'shit' about. The cold mixture of booze and cola entered Mae's mouth. Almost immediately, Mae Borowski realized she'd made an awful mistake. The cola didn't make the alcohol taste better. If anything, this mixture was just ruining the delicious soda! Mae felt an almost irresistible urge to spit the cocktail out.

"Mae, are you okay?" Gregg asked. Mae didn't respond. For some reason, she was still holding the mouthful of cocktail in her mouth. Why hadn't she swallowed it yet? "Dude, your face is red. Don't worry, he didn't see you."

What? Who didn't see her? What was Gregg talking about?

Mae's eyes were beginning to water as she lifted her head, her focus shifting to the opposite end of the bar. Buck was standing in the way, blocking her from seeing whoever it was Gregg was talking about. Then, Buck moved, clearing the path.

And Mae swallowed her mouthful of cocktail in a sharp, nervous gulp.


	11. Hooray for Alcohol

Cole. It was god damn puke magnet Cole. There he was, sitting right across from Mae, talking to some dude in a camo hoodie. Thankfully, he hadn't seemed to notice Mae yet. But with her sitting right across from him, it was only a matter of time.

"Shit," Mae whispered. Her throat was all prickly and hot. It felt like she'd swallowed a fire ruby or something. Mae clumsily got off of her barstool and slid behind Germ, trying to obscure herself from her ex. Germ continued sipping on his milk.

This was good. This wasn't weird. Mae was being very reasonable. Really, she was just saving both herself and Cole from further embarrassment. So long as he didn't look at Germ too closely, or notice Mae's ears poking out from behind him, Mae would be fine. She'd be totally fine.

Mae looked cautiously over Germ's shoulder, over to where Cole was sitting. He'd stopped talking to his friend. Now, he was looking over in her direction. He was squinting his eyes, as if he was trying to get a closer look. With how Mae was positioned, though, she was mostly safe.

It was at that moment Germ hopped out of his seat and walked off to the side.

Mae practically froze stiff. Cole was staring at her, recognition slowly dawning on his face. A big smile broke out on his face, and he raised his hand to wave. Mae didn't know what else to do except wave back.

"Germ," Mae whispered out of the side of her mouth, "what the hell, dude? I was hiding behind you!"

"That guy was staring at me," Germ said. His bottle of milk was in his hand, and he took a sip from it as he paused. "I didn't like it. That's what you get for hiding behind me. You wanna dance?"

Mae gave Germ the most what-the-eff look she could manage. "What the hell, dude? Now's not the time to—"

"Hey, Mae."

This time, Mae was frozen stiff. While she'd been talking to Germ, Cole had moved. He was no longer sitting across the bar. He was now right next to her. Talking to her. And Mae was still waving at him.

The gang's eyes were on them as Mae turned to face her ex, trying her best not to seem terrified out of her mind. Why had he even come over here? The last two times they'd met, Mae had puked on or near Cole. Did he not know that history repeated itself? Get a clue, man!

Gregg and Angus both looked mildly concerned. Bea looked mildly uninterested. Germ looked like he was enjoying his milk.

"Heeeeeyyyy, Cole," Mae said. She had to force herself to stop waving. Slowly, Mae lowered her hand and tried to give a smile that didn't make her look like a crazy person. The corners of her mouth were starting to hurt. "What are you doing here?"

Seriously, what was he doing here? Wasn't he at some big out-of-state college? After the party in the woods where Mae had thrown up, she'd taken solace in the fact that she likely wouldn't see Cole again for a long, long time. Unfortunately, that hadn't worked out. Here he was, at some weird honkytonk that used to be a club.

Mae nervously reached her hand towards the bar and grabbed her drink. She took another sip of the cocktail. It tasted gross, but she needed to look casual. Drinking things was casual.

"Oh, god, it's a long story," Cole said, laughing. What a jerk. Smiling like it wasn't even a big deal that Mae had puked on or around him twice. How could anyone possibly be that well-balanced?

"So, what are you doing here?" Cole asked. His attention eventually turned to the rest of the group. "Oh, hey. Something going on?"

"It's Mae's birthday," Gregg said. "Sorta." He didn't have his usual chipper tone. This situation was so awkward it was even affecting Gregg.

"Oh, wow! Happy birthday!" Cole said cheerfully. "Wow, so you're finally 21, huh?"

Mae made a noncommittal noise and took another sip of her drink. A long, long sip. Her head was starting to feel light, but whatever. It was getting her mind off of the mounting panic inside of her. She could get through this. She could make it through a conversation with Cole without having an outburst or puking on him.

"Wow, it's been a while since I've seen all of you guys," Cole said with a laugh. He looked over at Gregg and Angus, then Germ, then Bea. A curious look slowly dawned on Cole's face. "Hey, where's Hartley?"

Mae nearly choked on her cocktail as she took a long, long, long sip. The straw made slurping noises as the last of the cocktail was sucked away, leaving nothing but ice and air. Mae didn't stop drinking. She kept sucking on the straw until she felt like she'd explode.

Angus was the one to answer Cole's question. "Casey… left. He hopped a train last year."

Cole's smile faltered a bit. "Oh, wow," he said. "That's… wow. I didn't really know Hartley that well, but I hope he'll be okay."

 _"_ _Too little, too late, Cole-io."_

Oh, god, shut up, Dream Casey. Mae finally set her drink down on the bar counter. Why did Cole have to bring up Casey? He didn't know Casey. Casey hadn't even liked Cole all that much. Stupid, well-balanced Cole and his stupid, genuine concern.

Cole sighed, and then finally spoke up. "Anyway, Mae… I just wanted to say I'm sorry for—"

"You're sorry?!" Mae felt herself say. The words just came out of her, like a… thing out of another thing. "I puked on you, nearly killed you, and threatened you, and you're sorry?!"

Cole visibly flinched at Mae's words. "Well, I mean," he said, "Last time we saw each other, I feel like I really upset you. And I don't want there to be bad blood between us. You're a really great person, Mae, and I'd like if we could still be—"

"I don't even think about you at all!" Mae shouted. For some reason, she decided to snap her fingers sassily. She wound up just kind of flicking her wrist in the air. Wow. The cocktails here were really potent. "I don't even care! We were dumb high schoolers. We just, like, played video games and had sleepovers."

Cole's eyes flicked nervously from left to right. An anxious chuckle escaped him. "Well, I mean," he said, "When you put it like that, it wasn't really serious. But, I mean, I really liked you, and—"

"There's a hot girl who's into me," Mae said, her words slurring slightly. She was vaguely aware of people staring at her. "I'm gonna get her number, and talk to her about pizza every day."

"Oh, okay!" Cole said, genuinely happy. That jerk! How dare he want Mae to be happy! "That's great!"

"I feel as if I've lost the train of this conversation," Germ blurted out.

 _"_ _You know what'd really fix this whole situation? If you headbutted Cole right now. Like, really hard."_

The idea was tempting, but Mae wasn't about do what Dream Casey said just because she was drunk. Drunk off of a single cocktail, no less. Wow. "Oh, god, shut up," she moaned at Dream Casey.

Cole, who was apparently the world's biggest idiot, thought that Mae was talking to him. "Oh," Cole said. "Okay. Sorry." A moment of awkward silence. Then, "I guess I'll see you around, then?"

"Yeah, you'd better run!" Mae said. With that, a very confused Cole walked away, and Mae hopped back up onto her barstool.

"That was… certainly something," Bea said.

"Dude, why did you let her order alcohol?" Gregg asked, his voice testy. "I mean, this is hilarious, but still." Horror began to creep into his tone. "Oh, god, I can't believe I'm being the responsible one here."

"You're always responsle," Mae said. She slung her arm over Gregg's shoulder, pulling him into a side-hug. "You's my brother, Gregg. We was separated at birth."

"That is demonstrably not true," Angus pointed out. "Mae, you need to settle down. You're drunk. Already. And you're getting worked up."

Mae didn't listen, though. She just kept on talking. "Gregg, you're my bestie…" She said. "You, and Bea, and Angy, and Jermar… you's all my friends. I… oh god…" Mae felt tears beginning to well up in her eyes. "I don't deserve any of you guys. I'm the worst, and I don't know why you all like me."

Despite the jovial rockabilly music playing throughout the club, the mood around the five friends took a sharp nosedive. Bea reached out, placing her hand on Mae's shaking shoulder. "Mae, stop. Okay? You need to relax. You're good. Stop worrying. You're good."

Mae shuddered as her friends gathered in close around her. Everyone, even Germ, looked incredibly concerned.

 _"_ _You don't deserve it, though. You're a murderer, and a liar, and you can't even do your own laundry."_

"Oh, god," Mae whimpered. She looked at Gregg, tears in her eyes. "Gregg… I'm sorry, I've been all dumb… You and Grenggus are moving away… and I'm all dumb… I'm gonna miss you guys so much." Mae's vision began to get all blurry. She choked back a sob.

"Oh, dude," Gregg said. His voice was trembling as well. "Dude, we're gonna miss you, too. The whole move's, like, bittersweet."

"It kind of is," Angus said. His normally calm, stoic voice was showing signs of emotion.

"But I've been a bad friend!" Mae bawled. "Part of me wanted to like… lock you in your apartment… make you live in it forever…" Mae sniffled. "And I don't… want to do that. My brain's bad, guys. It makes me want stuff I don't want. I just wanna be cool with the thing."

"Dude, you are cool with it," Gregg said. "You don't have to apologize. I get it. I really do. I felt the same way when you went off to college."

Mae sniffled, her vision getting blurrier and blurrier. "There's more, dude," she said. "I'm sorry… I betrayed you, man. I betrayed my Greggory." Mae lifted her arm to her eyes and tried to wipe the tears away. She missed somehow. Everything was moving around too much. "I-I was eating pizza with the Bombshell… and I… I…"

"Dude, it's okay," Gregg whispered.

"Mae, calm down," Bea said. "You're making a scene."

"I…" Mae swallowed a lump in her throat. After a few seconds of stammering, she confessed. "I stole your pizza scale!"

Gregg's eyes went wide as he heard Mae confess her sins. "What?" He asked, his voice a whisper.

"I-I stole your scale, dude," Mae sobbed. The tears were streaming down her cheeks now. "I told her the pizza scale was my idea, and I didn't even get to make out with her or anything, and the pizza was awful. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

"Dude," Gregg said, his voice hitching as his own tears began to flow. "I forgive you! Of course I forgive you!" He pulled his best friend into a hug as they both bawled their eyes out.

People were starting to stare now. Bea cleared her throat and hurried to help Mae out of her seat. "Okay, well, this has been a fun fifteen minutes, but we really should go." As Mae pulled away from her hug with Gregg, she felt herself being guided towards the club's exit.

"Okay, thanks for the fun, Beebee," Mae said. "I'm sorry I made a mess."

"It's fine," Bea sighed. "I'm used to it by now. Let's just get going."

And so, Mae's friends led her out into the Beaver's Rook parking lot, where she promptly threw up.

* * *

Even if she was drunk out of her mind, Mae knew an awkward car ride when she saw one. Angus had taken Mae's place in the front passenger seat. Mae had taken his place, sitting in the back, her head resting against the passenger's side door. Germ sat beside her, staring forward enigmatically.

"God, I'm such an idiot," Bea muttered. "I really thought she wouldn't get wasted this time. I really thought she'd learned some effing self-control. Shows what I know."

"It's not your fault," Gregg said. "Mae drank that whole thing in one go. We should have stepped in and told her to pace herself. Instead, we got distracted watching that train wreck of a conversation."

Mae could hear her friends talking, of course. She was too busy being drunk to really understand most of it, though. She had a feeling it wasn't good. Mae had screwed up yet another party. Hell, she'd screwed up her own party. Jeez.

"Hey," she groaned, her speech slow and slurry. "Hey, Grangus…"

"Yeah?" Gregg asked, turning to give Mae a concerned look. "What's up, Mae? Need Bea to pull over?"

Mae shook her head. She didn't feel like she was going to puke. Not yet, anyway. Maybe later. "Hey," she said. "If you and… and Angy have kids… will you name them all after me?"

Gregg blinked. "I mean, I guess?" He said. "I guess we could do that."

"You don't get to pick a kid's name when you adopt them, Bug," Angus pointed out. "You're thinking of puppies."

"God, puppies are so much better than children," Mae grumbled. "I'm gonna howl at the moon with my Iowa wife."

No one seemed to know what to say to that. These people had no respect for relationship goals. Mae pitied them all.

Mae lifted her head away from the door and turned towards Germ. He looked all wobbly. No, wait. That was Mae, moving her head. Everything looked wobbly when she did that. Wobble World. "You're real quiet, Germy. You're a quiet little boy."

"I'm 18," Germ said, his eyes still focused dead ahead.

"Shush," Mae said, placing a hand on top of Germ's head. "You're a little Germ. You've got big dreams, though. Aim for the stars, Jeremy. You do you, man."

"'Kay," Germ said. "Stop touching my head, please."

"What's under your hat?" Mae asked. "I never seen you without your li'l hat, Gregg." Mae blinked. Had she just called Germ the wrong name? Nah, probably not. She was overthinking things.

"Speaksing of hats," Mae said, turning her attention dead ahead to Angus. "I never see… I didn't see Angus without his hat on ever. Never." Mae looked at Gregg out of the corner of her eye. "Hey, Greggory. You ever seen this guy without his hat?"

Gregg just nodded. "I have, dude. We live together, remember?"

Mae shook her head. "Sometimes I don't," she said. "Sometimes I thinks it's still two years ago. And I think one day I'll wake up, and Casey'll be alive, and I'll have to leave everyone all over again."

Bea looked over her shoulder at Mae, Mom Friend'ing it up to the fullest. "Mae… are you talking to Dr. Feldman about this? I mean, how long have you felt this way?"

"Does 'forever' count?" Mae asked. She placed her elbow on Germ's shoulder and leaned on him, her eyes half-closed. Germ didn't move at all. It was like the dude was made of stone. Mae wished she could turn into stone, and punch people.

Germ smelled like old tires.

"I mean, I gotta lotta promblems, guys," Mae grumbled. "If I tell Dr. Feldyman about all of 'em, they'd put me in a brain hospital."

"Mae, I…" Bea sighed. "God damn it, Mae, how do you expect to get the help you need if you don't talk to this guy?! It's what he's there for!"

Mae winced as Bea started yelling at him. Mae didn't like yelling. She wished Bea wouldn't yell. Mae's head was starting to hurt, and she didn't need all of this noise making it worse. "You're bumming me out, Beebee," she said.

"Yeah, dude, calm down," Gregg said. "Let Mae rest."

The car skidded to a sudden halt, and the sound of brakes screeching momentarily woke Mae up. She got off of Germ and looked up to see Bea had stopped on the side of the road. They were out on a lonely stretch of highway; nothing but farms and fields as far as they eye could see. The sky was turning dark.

Bea turned around in her seat and glared at Mae. "No. Okay? No. Mae, I know you're drunk, but you need to hear this. You put off finding a therapist for months. And now that you finally have a therapist, you're not talking to him?"

Bea's expression softened a bit. In that moment, she looked incredibly sad. "Mae, you're practically my sister. And, like… shit, Mae, you haven't been getting better. Like, we've all seen it."

Mae blinked. "Whaaaa?" She asked. Everyone in the car seemed to be trying not to look at her. They were glancing off, all looking sad and guilty.

"You've been spacing out a lot more than usual lately, dude," Gregg finally said. He sounded like he didn't want to admit it. "And, like, you've been muttering to yourself."

Mae tried to think of any times she'd done those things. She guessed she'd been spacing out a little more. And, yeah, maybe she had been muttering a lot. But that was just to talk to Casey. Nothing wrong with that, right?

Wait, no, that was definitely a little crazy.

"Oh, god," Mae grumbled. "I'm am nuts."

"You're not nuts, Mae," Bea sighed. "The stuff you went through last year… That, and all of the issues you already had? All of that combined would make anyone stressed. We're all feeling stressed. I keep having dreams the world is ending."

"I feel fine," Germ said. That got him an angry look from Bea.

"My point is…" She said. "Like, you shouldn't be worried about getting locked up or anything. If you don't want to talk about the mines and the cult, then fine. But you do need to talk to Dr. Feldman about how you've been feeling."

"His name is Bort," Mae said. "I dunno… it's scary, Bea. It really is."

"Bort's not a scary name," Gregg said, confused. Angus gently shushed him.

"I know it's scary," Bea said. "But, please, we all need you to take this shit seriously." She paused for a moment. Mae could have sworn she had a hitch in her voice.

"Look, when my dad had his breakdown," Bea continued, "he refused to see anyone about it. He just locked himself up and barely did anything. And he's not getting better. I know that. He's spiraling. And I don't want to watch the same thing happen to my best friend."

A moment of silence followed Bea's tirade. What could anyone say to that? Mae knew Bea was right. At least, when she was sober, she knew Bea was right. Right now, though, Mae was just kind of confused. She felt like she'd made Bea sad somehow.

"I'm sorry, Beebee," she slurred. "I don't wanna be your dad."

Bea opened her mouth to say something, but she seemed to be unsure of how to respond to that. "Okay," she said. "I guess that works? Thanks, Maeday."

Bea turned forward in her seat again and turned the key in the ignition. The car moved forward, and within a few seconds they were on the road again. Mae looked out at the long stretch of highway in front of them. Everything seemed infinite out there.

Mae closed her eyes, leaned against Germ, and fell asleep.

And in her sleep, she dreamed.


	12. The Stranger Places

There was always something there. There was fire, there were trees, and there were the stars. There was no difference between the sky and the ground. As Mae sat before the flickering night sky that had been made into the shape of a fire, she tried to think of when she'd gotten there.

Dreaming. Right. It had taken Mae longer than usual to realize she was in the Dream Possum Leap. The woods that weren't woods. Everything just shapes cut out of the sky.

Mae felt uneasy. She wasn't sure why. She couldn't recall where she'd been before she fell asleep. But, all the same, everything felt bad. Like the world was titled, and everything would fall off. The conspicuous absence of the Dream Casey only added to that sense of wrong.

Without the Dream Casey, Mae wasn't sure what to do. She tried to stand up, and found with some surprise that she could. She'd never been able to stand in these dreams before. Her surprise carried on as she found herself able to walk forward.

The forest was thick. It was like it was all trees, with no spaces in between. Mae found she was able to walk through the trees all the same. The trees completely surrounded her as she pushed through them, unsure of where she was going.

Eventually, after what felt like minutes of moving through the ethereal branches, Mae became aware of a light in the distance. It was a familiar, orange glow, and Mae knew at once that she had to go towards it. Nothing mattered except getting to that light.

Mae began to run. She sprinted and jumped, trying to close the distance. The light grew as she came closer and closer towards it. It felt soothingly warm; a welcome change to the coldness she'd felt from the fire.

Mae was also starting to realize why this light was familiar.

The trees began to fall away, and Mae found herself on a long path. There was nothing to either side of the path; it seemed to just float in the middle of a great, dark void. Off in the distance, Mae could make out something sitting in the middle of the path. The light was coming from it.

That was her destination. And it wasn't far off.

Mae tried to pick up the pace, but she found herself actually beginning to slow down as she got closer. Her body felt as if it was stuck in jelly. Mae tried to push herself, but she kept moving slower and slower.

Despite moving slower, though, the object was actually moving closer to her. She could just make it out now. It was tall, like a tower, with an opening in the middle.

Mae had heard them be called something. What had it been? Bandboxes? And who had told her about them?

Mae reached the tower, and came to a stop. Her eyes drifted to the top of the bandbox, and sure enough, there was someone sitting there. A man dressed in old-timey clothing, his eyes closed, was passionately playing an accordion.

He didn't seem to notice Mae. Nothing existed for him except the music.

Mae stared up at the accordionist for some time. Wasn't there supposed to be another light? In her dreams with these guys, there were other lights, each leading her to another bandstand. But no, this time it was just the accordion guy. Confused, Mae did something she'd never done before. She spoke to the accordionist.

"Hey," she called up.

The man continued playing his accordion. He didn't react in any way to Mae's voice. That was a little bit rude, Mae thought.

"Hey, dingus," she said, louder, "Where are the other guys? There's usually four of you."

No response. Just music. This was starting to weird Mae out. Those dreams she'd had had been formulaic, almost. They had a pattern. This accordion guy, all by himself? He didn't fit that pattern.

"I find all four of you, you play your music, I see a big animal, and then I, like, die or something," Mae listed out. "Where are the others? Where's Casey?"

Nothing.

"Is Casey even real?" Mae asked. "Is his ghost actually in my head? Or am I just going crazy?"

Nothing.

"Why do I keep coming back to Possum Leap?!" Mae shouted. "What the hell's so special about Possum Leap?!"

Nothing, nothing, nothing. The band played on. Or, rather, the single member of the band played on. Nothing mattered to him but his music. This was hopeless.

"Fine," Mae muttered. "I hope you pull a muscle playing that thing. A ghost muscle."

Without a light to follow, Mae wasn't sure where to go. Forward? Backward? Sideways? Probably not sideways. She'd fall into space or some shit.

In a case like this, the best plan would be to move forward. And move forward she did. Mae walked out into the dark, out among the infinite stars. Gradually, the world around her seemed to grow more solid. It occurred to Mae that some scene was forming around her.

The ground under Mae's feet took on a rocky sort of quality. Mae moved her arm, and felt herself brush against something cold and hard. Mae felt with her hands, and discovered she was in sort of rocky tunnel.

The path had become a steep incline by this point. Something about it was very familiar, but Mae wasn't sure what. She could see a faint light at the end of the tunnel, and Mae felt herself rush towards it. The incline evened out into flat ground, and Mae found herself…

In some sort of church?

It seemed to be a church. There were pews all around. A crude, upside-down star had been formed from planks holding the wall and ceiling up. Was Mae in a mine? Who would make a church in a mine? Miner priests?

It occurred to Mae that she had been in this chamber before. On that night, months ago, when they'd come face to face with their town's dark secret. It was a night Mae wished she could forget, if only for a little while.

In an instant, the once empty room was filled with people. Hooded figures, and at least a dozen of them. They all stood motionless around Mae. For a moment, Mae thought they were watching her.

Was this some sort of punishment? Had the cult come back, like Casey, and now they wanted revenge? What would they do? What could they do? They were a bunch of dumb ghosts, right? Mae's brain was tougher than ghosts. Probably.

Mae's train of thought was interrupted when she heard one of them speak.

"Well, I think that could have gone a lot worse," one of them said.

"A lot worse?" One of them repeated, incredulous. "A lot worse?! They saw us! Four of them saw what we was doing to Lurv!"

"Yeah," the first voice said, "and one of 'em fell down the hill. We'll find the others in no time."

"And do what?" A third voice asked. Mae recognized this one. It was their leader. The one who'd explained everything to them. He was clearly an older man. Probably older than Mae's dad. "Kill them? That isn't how we operate. 'Sides, no one'd believe 'em anyway."

"That still leaves one issue," another voice said. Mae recognized this one, too. It was a voice she'd known for a long, long time, and one she wasn't exactly happy to hear. A lot of mixed feeling connected to that voice. "Which one of you assholes shot at my niece?"

Silence. The hooded figures looked amongst themselves for a moment. Slowly, timidly, one of them raised their hand into the air. "Uh," they said, "yeah, that was me. Sorry."

"Effing hell, Sanders!" Aunt Molly yelled out. "What were you thinking?! That's my sister's kid, for eff's sake!"

"Jeez, Molly, I feel bad enough already," Sanders muttered. "I just meant for it to be a warning shot! You know I wouldn't want to hurt Mae."

"Why not?" One of them asked. "She put that kid in the hospital. She's nothing but a troublemaker. Plus, in a day or two, she's going to bury all of us in this mine."

Mae looked over to the figure who had spoken. Well, she thought it was him who had spoken. They all kind of looked the same, and their voices came from all around her. The fact that these dream cultists knew they were going to die didn't diminish the creep factor, either.

"God damn it, am I the only one who knows the rules?" The leader asked, utterly fed up with his cultists' shit. "We don't hurt no one who'd be missed. Now, regardless of what she's done, Borowski'd be missed. So Sanders better hope that Borowski recovers from her little bump."

"I'm going out there," Molly said gruffly. Molly had always been kind of gruff, Mae thought. "I'll take her out to the hospital near Briddle." Despite the urgency in her voice, none of the cloaked figures moved. It was like they were fixed to the floor.

"Now, hold up, Molly," the leader said. Mae watched one of the figures reach out to… whichever one of these weirdoes was supposed to be Aunt Molly. It was probably more dramatic when they were all walking around. "You go out there and grab your niece right now, those three'll know you're one of us."

Silence. When Molly didn't respond, the leader continued. "You gotta wait 'till they tell someone about what happened. I know that's rough, but it's what's best."

After a few seconds, Molly spoke. "Shit," he grumbled. Then, after a moment, she asked a question. "Where the hell's Eide? This whole thing's his fault anyway."

"Goat's been singing to him lately," one of the cultists said. From the tone in their voice, it sounded like they pitied Eide. Mae couldn't exactly agree. Out of all the cultists who'd died, he was the one she had the least sympathy for.

"Goat wants him to watch the girl," the cultist continued. "Think the Goat's been singing to her. Eide's prob'ly a little jealous. You know how he is."

"Creepy and obsessive?" Molly asked. "Sonuvabitch thinks he's great just 'cause he hears its singing the loudest. He acts like hearing the Goat is a good thing somehow."

"Why are you telling us all of this?" Another cultist asked. "We all already know all about Eide and shit. He's been around for a while."

"Well, it's Mae's dream," Molly grumbled. "I'm just saying things so she'll understand."

"Where is Mae, anyway?" The leader asked. Mae felt her blood turn cold. The cultists' heads began to turn, as if they were looking all over for her. With how motionless they were, though, they looked strangely mechanical. Pillars spinning in cricles.

"Borowski? Mae Borowski? Anyone seen Mae Borowski?"

"Oh, I remember," said a voice Mae couldn't quite recognize. "She's in the hole. She fell into the hole. Mae Borowski fell into the hole inside of her brain and can't make her way out. She fell in on the day she and I played softball."

The cultists all had a laugh at that. "Oh, right!" The leader said. "God, what a senior moment. It completely slipped my mind. Mae Borowski's in the hole, with Casey and everyone else in this town."

"This town's gonna get swallowed up one day," Molly said. She was awfully cheerful. Mae didn't think she'd ever heard Aunt Mall Cop sound that cheerful in real life. "We're all gonna get swallowed up. You know what I think about that?"

"What?" The unfamiliar voice asked.

Molly didn't respond right away. She seemed to be pausing, as if to let everyone's curiosity build. Then, finally, she stated her opinion. "It's… a whoppah!"

The cultists all began laughing again. Their laughter grew more and more intense, until they sounded almost manic. Despite the laughter, none of them were moving. They all stood as stiff as statues, but the laughter was practically pouring out of them.

"Oh, jeez," the leader said. "Oh, wow, Molly, you're a riot."

"Thanks," Molly said. "The world isn't out there somewhere. It's here. It's right here."

Everything was wrong about all of this. Mae felt as if she'd start to suffocate. She watched in horror as the cultists seemed to glide along the floor, like figures affixed to a track, and assembled into a single-file line.

"Come on, gang, let's go jump into the hole!" The lead cultist said. The hooded figures moved forward, single file. They didn't look like people; they looked like a toy train on a rail. They marched forward, out of the church, and into the darkness of the tunnels before them. Mae could have sworn they were whistling.

Left alone in the dark, stony church, Mae was left reeling. She stared at the tunnel that the cultists had just marched into. After a few moments, Mae found her words.

"The hell was that?" She asked. "Was that supposed to teach me something? Did I see the past, or is my brain just trying to make me feel even worse than I do already?"

The stone walls of the chamber were silent. Stupid rocks.

Mae flung her hands up in the air. "Does any of this even mean anything?!" She called out. "Like, I get it, I've got issues and shit, but what the hell was any of that?! Was it guilt? Am I psychic, or some shit? Come on, brain, answer me!"

"Brains don't talk, kid."

If Mae had been awake, the sudden intrusion of a familiar voice would have made her heart leap out of her chest. It had been a while since she'd heard this person speak, so she couldn't quite recognize who they were. But when she turned around and saw them, she wasn't surprised.

A tall, older man in a plaid shirt and utility belt was standing in front of the wooden support beams. He had a power drill out, and was working on tightening a screw into the wood. Just like the first time she'd seen him, he was fixing something.

Mae almost didn't know what to say. The janitor had been a sort of mystery she'd just stopped thinking about after a while. Eventually, she'd chalked it up to him just being some old guy who knew a lot of stuff. Mae wasn't sure why she was dreaming about him now.

For a while, the only noise was the whirring of the janitor's power drill. Mae stared at where he was drilling, and saw that the screw didn't deem to be for anything. He was just screwing it into solid wood. Then again, Mae didn't know much about carpentry. Maybe what the janitor was doing was very essential.

Finally, Mae found her voice again. "Hi." She said.

"Yup," the janitor said, still focusing on his work. "How ya doin', kid? Been a while."

"Yeah," Mae said. "Haven't seen you since before Longest Night, at the Taco Buck. What were you even doing there?"

"Fixin' a door," the janitor said.

"You were just sitting at a booth eating a taco salad," Mae pointed out.

"Didn't say I was fixin' a door at the Taco Buck," the janitor retorted.

Not a lot Mae could say to argue with that. The janitor carried on with his drilling. Even in a dream, that loud, whirring noise made Mae's teeth feel weird. Maybe it was just memories of Dr. Hank and her first fillings.

"So," Mae said slowly. "What's going on? Why have I been having weird dreams again?"

The janitor stopped his drilling, but didn't take his eyes off of the support beam. His skinny shoulders moved up and down in a lazy shrug. "I dunno, kid. I ain't a shrink."

"But you have something to do with everything, right?" Mae asked. "You showed up when I came back to town. You told me that weird stuff at the Harfest play. You knew my name without me ever telling you!"

"Nearly everyone in Possum Springs knows your name, for one reason or another," the janitor said. "Don't see in particular how me knowin' it makes me special."

Mae frowned. "When I was in my coma," she said, "you were there. I saw you, or I dreamed it or something. You knew I was going to get better. And I think you knew all about that creepy cult and the Black Goat."

Mae paused. The next thing she said was difficult to say. The last time she'd asked it, she hadn't liked the answer. "Are you… God?"

The janitor made a phlegmy, disgusting snorting noise. For a brief, terrifying moment, Mae worried he was going to hock a loogie. Then she remembered she was dreaming, so it was all good. Mae waited patiently for some sort of answer, but the janitor just kept on with his drilling for a while. Finally, he spoke.

"Does it matter?" He asked.

Mae opened her mouth to tell him it totally did matter, and maybe to cuss him out a little, but found she couldn't say anything. She wasn't certain of her answer, now that she thought about it. The janitor seemed to pick up on her silence, and kept on talking.

"How would me bein' God make your life any different?" The janitor asked. "What would it mean?"

Mae frowned. "I dunno," she said in a quiet, uncertain voice. "I guess it means… anything? Like, it'd mean there was someone at the steering wheel. It would mean the world wasn't just… what was it… monstrous existence."

The janitor made a small, noncommittal grunt. The whirring of his drill died down as he stopped to inspect his word. Apparently satisfied, he set his drill down and placed his hands on his hips.

"Don't matter how hard I work, it just comes undone again," the janitor grumbled. He cast a glance over his shoulder at Mae. "Kid, this's your dream. I'm not gonna give you any answers you haven't thought of yourself. Even if I was God, I wouldn't just spill everything out to you."

Something about how casually he said it made Mae's heart sink. "After everything last year…" Mae said slowly, "I thought I had a better handle on things. But then Aunt Molly didn't come home, and I put off finding a therapist… I feel like all this shit I went through didn't mean anything. I feel like everything bad lately is my fault. But that's insane. Right?"

"Yup," the janitor said. "It's insane. But it's human. Feelin' guilty about what you can't control is as natural as the trees."

"Is that supposed to make me feel better?" Mae asked. "Because it sounds like people are just hardwired to be miserable."

"It ain't supposed to make you feel like anything," the janitor said. "Just stating a fact."

"Facts are dumb," Mae grumbled.

Silence. Mae hated silence, especially in a place as foreboding as this dream mine. Why couldn't her brain have conjured up somewhere nicer for her to see her dead aunt? And for that matter, why was she seeing her dead aunt anyway?

Aunt Molly had killed people, or at least been complicit in dozens of murders. Even if what Mae saw was true, and Molly had been furious about Mae being shot at, it didn't change anything. She'd still been a part of this effed up cult, and she was still dead.

What's more, her death wasn't really Mae's fault. If anything, it was Eide's fault for attacking her. So why, then, did Mae feel like a murderer? Why did she feel like the worry of everyone in town who'd lost someone that night was her fault?

If feeling like this was natural, then life was a hot mess.

"Okay," Mae grumbled. "I think I've seen enough. When do I w—"

* * *

Mae's eyes were still closed when she woke up. She didn't feel like she had the strength to open them. Everything was wobbly, and her head was pounding. Her mouth tasted like garbage and soda. She was vaguely aware that she was still leaning against Germ.

How long had she been asleep? Ten minutes? Forty?

Her friends were talking all around her.

"I mean, you're not really subtle about it," Gregg pointed out. "I mean, you're letting her sleep on you, for one."

"Subtlety is for the weak," Germ said.

"Your odds probably aren't very good, Germ," Bea said. "She's got it bad for this college girl a few hours from here. Like, really bad."

"That's fine," Germ said. His voice was always so impossible to read. What were they all talking about, anyway? "I, like, don't really want a relationship or anything that bad. Just think she's a cool person, is all."

Mae opened her mouth to ask what everyone was saying, but instead she let loose a loud, long groan. For a moment, Mae was irrationally worried that she was going to throw up. But nope; she just made a gross noise. Really gross. So gross that the conversation came to a stop.

"Uh, hey, Mae," Angus said. "You awake?"

"Sorta," Mae muttered. "Kinda. Not really. What're you guys talking about?"

"How much did you hear?" Gregg asked slowly. He sounded kinda nervous. Mae didn't like nervous Gregg. Greggs were supposed to be happy and excitable and slightly taller than her. Ugh. Mae's brain was rambling. She was either still drunk, or hungover.

"I dun even remember," Mae said. "How long was I asleep?"

"Like, thirty minutes?" Bea said. "Maybe? You were kinda muttering in your sleep, and kicking your legs like a dog. You okay?"

Mae lifted her head off of Germ's shoulder. He still smelled like old tires. Why was that? How did someone get that smell? She wiped her eyes off on her arm, but the very sensation of moving made her slightly nauseous. "Yeah, I…"

Mae paused. "No, actually," she sighed. "You're right, Bea. I haven't been talking about all of the stuff going on with me. I guess I was scared that people would think I'm crazy? But, like, if I don't say something, I might actually go crazy. Or crazier. Whatever."

She sighed. Mae was aware that everyone was waiting for her to continue. They'd have to wait for a while; Mae's head hurt almost too much to talk. She wanted to collapse in bed and never, ever wake up, except for, like, coffee and pancakes.

"I've been having dreams lately," Mae sighed. "And, like, I've been… hearing things. In my head. I've been hearing stuff that sounds like Casey, and just…"

"You've been hearing voices?" Bea asked cautiously. She didn't sound scared; she sounded like she wanted a better grasp on Mae's situation. Mae sort of loved her for that. She was already scared enough for all of them.

"Yes," Mae said. "No. The voices aren't really voices. They're, like, ideas. Or echoes, or something. Shit, I dunno. Talking about stuff that's in your head is tricky, you know?"

"Okay, you definitely need to talk to Dr. Feldman about this," Bea said. "Or, like, try to, at least. You're dealing with serious shit, Mae. We're all worried for you."

Mae wanted to say something glib and funny to make light of the whole situation. Her brain was too drunk to come up with anything, though. Instead, she settled on "Thanks, guys. I could use a lot of worry, I think."

"Dude, we're all here for you," Gregg said. "I mean, I don't get half of the shit you're going through, but, like… you're my best friend, you know? And none of us want a repeat of last year."

"I mean," Angus said, "I doubt we're going to have a repeat. Most of the cultists are dead."

He said it so casually. Not exactly surprising. Out of all of them, Angus had the least problem with what they'd done. Mae actually felt a little angry about that. Then again, none of Angus's relatives had been down there. Probably. As far as Mae knew.

For now, Mae was all talked out. With a small sigh, she rested her head against the window, closed her eyes, and returned to sleep.


	13. Bonus: Germ and Casey are Skate Boys

"So what's it like being out?"

It was a particularly hot summer in Possum Springs. It was the kind of summer that made Casey wish they had a local ice cream place. Closest place to get ice cream was out near Hunwick, and that was a little bit of a drive.

So, instead of ice cream, Casey was cooling down with a nice, refreshing cigarette.

Casey wasn't the brightest tool in the shed. He wasn't going to deny that.

When Germ asked his question, Casey took his cigarette out and looked over at his little friend. Casey had come out to the tracks to smoke, like he often did when he needed to clear his head, and Germ had just sort of showed up. Germ kind of did that a lot.

"Well, it's only been a few weeks," Casey said, "so, so far it just feels like a normal summer vacation. I mean, there's this weird feelin' of, like… freedom? Other'n that, though, it's same old, same old."

Casey had surprised more than a few people by making it to his high school graduation. Hell, he'd surprised himself. High school had been a drag, and he'd thought of dropping out more than once. The only reason he'd stuck it out had been for his mom, and, to a lesser extent, Sam.

"Can't wait 'till I'm out," Germ said. "High school's garbage."

"It really is," Casey sighed. "But yeah, once you graduate, everyone in our group'll be out."

"I'm not really in the group," Germ pointed out. "I just hang out with you and Gregg."

That was sort of true. Germ had just started hanging around them one day. None of them had really minded, though. Casey actually really liked the little weirdo. It was good to hang with someone else who could actually skate.

"You're basically in the group," Casey said. "Hell, if you was musical, you'd be in the band."

"I'm bad at music," Germ said. He didn't sound ashamed. Germ never sounded ashamed. He was very certain of himself. Casey kind of envied that. Half the time, Casey didn't feel certain about anything.

"I remember," Casey said. When Mae had left for college, they'd invited Germ to try out for bass. He'd played three notes before they begged him to stop, and as far as Casey knew, he hadn't picked up an instrument again since.

The band had carried on. A bass wasn't really necessary for a band, after all. Without Mae, though, something about the band felt hollow. It was still fun, sure, but Casey still missed Mae. He hoped she'd be coming home for summer break. She hadn't shown up during spring break, for some reason.

Maybe she was just busy with new college friends? The idea made Casey a little bit jealous, but as long as Mae was happy, that was okay. She was off getting all smart and successful. Probably dating someone who was in an underground fight club. That had basically been her dream.

Casey didn't have much in the way of dreams. For now, his biggest dream was getting out of Possum Springs.

Germ was just staring at him. Casey was used to that. A lot of people were probably put off by Germ's weird, quiet intensity, but Casey didn't mind most of the time. Casey liked the quiet.

Casey removed the cigarette again and took in a deep breath of smoke. This was probably gonna lead to health problems later in life, but Casey seriously doubted he'd make it past 30 anyway. He'd been acting out quite a bit lately, and that was going to lead to him either going to jail or getting shot by Mae's grumpy aunt.

"You know what's bullshit?" Casey asked, unprompted. "Scooters. Not, like, motorized scooters, but the ones you push with your feet. Who came up with those?"

"I think they're kinda cool," Germ said. He didn't seem confused by this sudden topic change.

"They aren't," Casey said. "They're the bastard children of bikes and boards. They're skinny skateboards with a stick attached. No amount of sick tricks'll convince me otherwise, Germ."

Germ didn't say anything to this. Casey took that to mean he'd made his point and that scooters were dead now.

"Come on," Casey said. "Let's do some skatin'."

* * *

In the ever-widening sinkhole that had been named Possum Springs, there weren't a lot of places where one could skate to destroy and/or create. That is, there weren't a lot of safe places. But out by the old Glass Factory, or near Sawmill Park? Those were primo skating spots.

Also, a good place to get tetanus or something.

Today, though, Casey didn't feel like hiking out to one of those spots. In that case, the best place to skate was the abandoned basketball courts up by the Food Donkey. By the time they got there, though, Casey realized that they could skate in the parking lot if they wanted to. The Food Donkey was nearly abandoned. Only a few cars were scattered around the vast parking lot.

"Jeez," Casey mused. "Ham Panther's bleeding this place dry."

Their boards tucked under their arms, the two skaters made their way across the black pavement, to the old basketball court. It didn't have any sick ramps, or cool rails, but it did have some decent space. Besides, Casey wasn't super good at grinding.

Insert sex joke here. Heh.

"You wanna try jumpin' some cars later?" Casey asked as they made their way up the stairs, to the blacktop.

"No," Germ said.

Casey shrugged. "Yeah, me neither, I guess. Got in trouble for it last time. Sam chewed me out for it. He said I can't keep pullin' this shit now that I'm 18." He rolled his eyes. Casey appreciated that his stepdad was worried about him, but Casey felt like he'd kinda missed the boat on fatherly advice.

"You'd go to jail," Germ said, tossing his skateboard onto the blacktop. Casey followed suit.

"I'd be runnin' the place inside of a week," Casey said. "I'd fix me a shiv and go to town on one'a the perverts they got locked up in there."

That seemed like a pretty sound strategy, right? Casey's cousin, who'd been to jail, had said that the best way to earn respect was to shank someone the eff up. Then again, Casey's cousin had only gone to jail for a DUI, so maybe he didn't know what he was talking about.

"Do you think about going to jail a lot?" Germ asked. He had one foot on his board, and was idly pushing it back and forth.

Casey shrugged. "I mean, I'm no idiot. I know it's probably gonna happen," he said. "I'm a born outlaw, Germ. I started doin' crimes soon as I was born. Soon as I came out, I pointed a knife at the doctor, and he was all, 'Oh, shit, crime baby!'"

Germ didn't react. He either didn't think Casey's story was funny, didn't know Casey was joking, or was thinking about something else. Probably the last one.

"You're killin' me, Germ," Casey said with a sigh.

Their talking done, the two friends got to skating. They did all of the tricks. Their boards did flipping stuff, and jumping stuff and anyone watching would have been really impressed. You might think that this description is kind of a vague copout, but it's not. It's a really good description of skateboarding.

They'd moved onto skating around the parking lot by the time Casey ate it. His board's wheel must have hit some uneven patch of pavement, and Casey was thrown off his board. He fell face-first into the side of someone's red sedan.

As Casey's face slid down the car's exterior, he wondered if he'd ever own a cool car. Also, he wondered if he'd knocked a tooth loose. Something wet and was pouring from his nose. He tasted something coppery in his mouth.

Casey let loose a low hiss of pain. He curled up, his hands covering his face. Yup. His nose was busted pretty bad. He ran his tongue around the inside of his mouth and tasted blood. None of his teeth hurt, though. That was good. He wouldn't need a dentist appointment, hopefully.

Through the pain, Casey heard the sound of a board rolling towards him. "Hey," Germ said. "Nice face-plant. You okay?"

No, he wasn't. His entire face was throbbing, blood was streaming down his face, and they hadn't even gotten the wipeout on video. Whatever. Casey'd crashed harder than this. Lots harder.

"I'll live," he grumbled. He sat up, still covering his face. Slowly, he lowered his hands while Germ watched on. Casey saw with some dismay that his palms were red with blood.

"Shit," Casey grumbled. "How's it look? Bad? Is my nose all effed up?"

Germ studied Casey for a moment. "I mean, you're all bloody and stuff, but other than that you look normal."

Well, that was a relief. "Sweet," Casey said. "You got a phone, Germ? Take a picture of my gross bloodface."

"Who in Possum Springs has a phone?" Germ asked. "We have no reception."

"I mean, the Turner twins have phones," Casey argued. "That girl Jackie had a phone. But she's in college now, so I don't know why I brought her up."

In truth, Casey knew exactly why he'd brought Jackie up of all people. His face hurt too much to really think about his dumb crushes, though. Germ hopped off his board and took a seat beside his injured friend. Casey laughed appreciatively.

"Man, I gotta show this shit to Gregg," he said. "Like, seriously, how red is my face?"

"It's like a big, gross triangle," Germ said. "It's already starting to look all crusty and shit."

"Awesome," Casey laughed.

The two sat with their backs against the red sedan. The throbbing pain had subsided, replaced by a mild stinging sensation. His nose started to feel stuffy as the bleeding came to a stop. Casey made a mental note to check out his reflection in the car's mirror once his head stopped pounding. He probably looked metal as hell.

Casey wasn't sure how much time passed. He might have dozed off. The owner of the sedan didn't come out and ask why there was Hartley-blood on the side of his car, anyway. Eventually, when the pain had died down enough, Casey stood up, stretching as he did so.

Casey glanced over at the car's driver side window. He liked what he saw. It was a gross, crusty, black and red triangle all over the lower half of his face. Maybe Casey was too old to get excited over awful injuries, but it wasn't like there was a lot else going on. You had to find your own fun in Possum Springs.

* * *

The owner of the sedan never showed up. Once Casey started feeling better, he and Germ headed into the Food Donkey to wash up Casey's bloody face. They got a few odd looks going in. One lady looked as if she was gonna pass out. In the end, though, they did what they had to do, and soon they were on their way to the bridge on the edge of town.

The bridge was an okay place to skate. Cars didn't pass through Possum Springs that often, so there was usually lots of space. You had to be careful, though, or your skateboard could fall off the bridge, into the ravine below.

Today, though, Casey didn't feel like skating on the bridge. Instead, he and Germ sat on one of the railings, looking out at the ravine as it stretched out along the horizon. Some people probably loved this view. For Casey, though? It was just another part of this dead end town.

For some reason, a song started running through Casey's head. It wasn't a song that had ever been played. It was something he'd written a few years ago, when the band was just starting out. A song about how this town made Casey feel.

It had been called 'Born to Lose'. Every day, that phrase seemed to sum up Casey's life more and more.

"You ever think 'bout the future, Germ?" Casey asked. He glanced over to see that his younger friend was staring forward, his expression blank. He did that a lot. He wasn't looking at anything in particular; Germ was just taking everything in.

When Jeremy didn't respond, Casey continued. "I feel like the only time I had a plan for the future was when I was a kid," he said. "Even then, it wasn't a plan. It was a goal. I had a picture of what I wanted. And as I got older, that picture got blurrier and blurrier. Like, I started realizing I never had a chance."

Casey sighed. "And I probably never will, either."

"You're a real downer today," Germ said. "Did hitting that car, like, scramble your brain or something?"

Casey sighed. Having a heart-to-heart with Germ felt kind of like talking to a brick wall. He always listened, sure, but it was tricky knowing how supportive he was actually being. The dude just didn't emote as much as other people. It was like, instead of reacting to things, he observed them.

Or something.

"Everyone else's goin' somewhere," Casey explained. "Gregg and Angus have their apartment, Mae has college… What've I got? I've got some drums and a boat my shitty dad left me."

"I like your boat," Germ said. Casey presumed this was Germ's way of trying to reassure him. Casey appreciated the effort.

"That boat is literally the only good thing my bio dad ever did for me," Casey grumbled. "Like, after years of treating me and mom like shit, he thought, 'Hey, if I die, how can I make it up to my kid? Oh, I know! I'll give him a boat!' I ain't complaining, though."

"You shouldn't complain about boats," Germ said wisely. Casey thought this was good advice.

"My point is, I'm stuck in this dumbass town," Casey said. He looked down at his feet. Below him was the ravine that ran along the edge of town. Every now and then a drifter or homeless person's body would be found down there. Usually, it'd be after a flood, or some other intense weather.

"All people do in this town are die or get old," Casey sighed.

Casey lifted his head and saw Germ was staring at him. The little guy actually looked concerned. That was unusual. Germ's change in expression was so strange that Casey almost didn't know how to respond. He chuckled, and smiled sheepishly.

"Sorry," he said. "Got to being kind of a bummer there at the end, huh?"

"You okay, dude?" Germ asked.

Casey didn't like how Germ was staring at him. It was like the little guy could stare right through Casey's skin, and could see all the shit floating around in Casey's head. It was a little spooky. Casey'd never been creeped out by Germ before, but this whole thing was genuinely upsetting.

"I'm fine," Casey lied. He tried to laugh and brush it off, but it came out sounding forced and fake. "Just got a lot on my mind, is all."

"Yeah, clearly," Germ said. He was quiet for a bit. It was a heavy silence, and Casey didn't like it. Finally, Germ spoke. "Hey, you're not, like… gonna do something bad to yourself, are you?"

Casey blinked. He didn't quite understand. "What, like when I crashed into that car earlier today?" He asked. "I mean, something like that's gonna happen in the future, probably."

This answer didn't seem to satisfy Germ, whose worried look didn't diminish. "You've just seemed really… I dunno, you've been a real downer lately. Pessimistic."

Pessimistic didn't seem like the right word. Casey thought he was being fairly realistic. What was there for him in this crappy, dying little town? All Casey had were his mom, his stepdad, and Gregg and Angus. If any of them left like Mae, Casey didn't know what he'd do.

He could run away, maybe. Hop a train and go to some big city. Play drums on a sidewalk for cash and live on the rails. Get laid in all fifty states. His own personal dream.

Casey wished it was that easy. He couldn't just up and leave his mom, though. Back when they had to put up with Bio Dad, Casey and his mom were all each other had. They hadn't just been mother and son; they'd been a team. They'd been each other's support. Bio Dad dying, Casey turning into a delinquent, and Sam coming into their lives hadn't changed that.

So he was stuck here. Casey didn't want to break his mom's heart by leaving. So, if it kept her happy, Casey would stay in this shitty town forever. And Casey would be hopeless forever.

People did stupid things when they were hopeless.

* * *

The walk back to Casey's place was a long one. Plenty of time to talk. Talking was most of what they did. Casey was more than happy to avoid going back to the earlier conversation about his alleged pessimism.

"You got any plans for the summer?" Casey asked. His hands were in his hoodie's front pockets, and his board was tucked under his arm. "Like, I don't know a lot about your family, Germ. Do you guys go on vacation at all?"

"I went to the beach once and got stung by a jellyfish," Germ said.

Casey wasn't sure if that was a yes or a no. He decided to chalk it up as a neutral answer.

"Sam talked about doin' something," Casey said. "He's prob'ly not gonna get time off, though. Looks like I'm stuck here for the summer again. Ain't that a thing?"

"Why don't you do something with…" Germ paused. The name didn't seem to be coming to him right away. "What's her name? Your girlfriend. The one you told me you took to senior prom."

Oh, right, Liz. Things had not gone well with Liz Hutchins. Things tended to not go well in Casey's relationships. Casey knew he had issues with relationships, but couldn't really bring himself to do anything about those problems. That was probably bad, huh?

"Liz wasn't really my girlfriend," Casey said slowly. "She was just a girl who I took to prom and then cried when I stopped talking to her." Oh, wow, that sounded awful when he said it out loud.

It wasn't Casey's fault that girls put more weight on relationships than he did. Right? Probably right. Probably.

Whatever. Casey had only just gotten out of high school. He had plenty of time to figure relationship shit out.

"You ever been in a relationship, Germ?" Casey asked. He had a feeling he already knew the answer, though.

"Nah," Germ said. "Haven't liked anyone all that much. I'm more into, like, skateboards and stuff. Like, I dunno. Haven't met anyone I really click with, or whatever."

"You'd probably click with someone if you weren't such an enigmatic li'l weirdo," Casey said. Germ didn't respond. Casey silently hoped he hadn't offended the little guy. Germ seemed to be taking it well, but who knew?

They walked in silence for a while further until they came to the Clik Clak Diner. Casey knew Germ lived somewhere out past the Food Donkey. That was about it. Casey's own home was out by the tracks, in the dirt poor neighborhood.

Well, one of the dirt poor neighborhoods. There were a couple of those in Possum Springs.

"Feels like nothin' really happened today," Casey mused. "Well, 'sides from me busting up my face." He frowned a bit. Was this what his future going to be like? Day after day of doing nothing?

"Is that a bad thing?" Germ asked.

Casey shrugged. It didn't feel like a good thing, that was for sure. It felt like all Casey had going on in his life was a lot of nothing. This town, his relationships, and even the things he did for fun all felt like nothing. It was all just stuff. No substance and no meaning.

More and more, Casey felt like there was no point to the things he used to enjoy. That made him angry. One day, he thought, that anger was going to lead to him getting arrested or worse. If Casey couldn't find some meaning in his life, he'd wind up a scumbag like his dad, or a criminal like his cousin.

"Well," Germ said after a bit, "I gotta go. Spaghetti night. My uncles are comin' over, too."

"Oh, yeah," Casey said, his mind still on other things. "See ya."

But Germ had already turned and walked away. Casey still didn't really get that guy. He had a feeling he never would. Germ was his own man, even if he lived at home. Germ didn't seem to have the same kinds of hang-ups as Casey. Germ didn't seem like he wanted to smash all the windows in town and steal a cop car.

Casey didn't know why he wanted to act out. It didn't occur to him that he might be struggling with depression. Casey Hartley didn't have a good idea of what depression was, after all. If he did know what it was, he would have described it as the way he felt when he thought about the future.

And for Casey Hartley, who by now had less than a year to live, the future didn't seem to hold any promises.


	14. Making More Amends

Mae work up feeling the worst she'd felt in a long, long time. Her head was pounding. She felt as if she was going to be sick. Somehow, she could still taste the soda from that stupid cocktail. Mae guessed that she hadn't eaten anything to get rid of the taste since leaving the club.

Had she? Mae's last memory was being essentially carried into her house by Gregg and Angus. Bea had helped her into bed and Germ… God, who knows? He'd disappeared sometime between her going to sleep and them arriving at her home.

Everything about last night was fuzzy. She'd had a serious talk with her friends. Mae remembered that, at least. She also remembered making an idiot out of herself in front of Cole. Again. At least she hadn't puked in front of him. That probably meant Cole's luck was improving!

When Mae went downstairs, she found that her mom had already left for church. Mae must have slept in even later than usual. That was probably for the best. After the dream she'd had about Aunt Mall Cop, Mae didn't know how she'd feel about talking to her mom.

Mae grabbed something quick to eat before she headed out the front door. The sudden sunlight hurt her eyes, and aggravated her hangover even further. Stupid spring with its stupid sunlight. This was why Mae loved the fall. It fitted her sleep cycle much better.

Mae almost didn't feel like she could make her way across town that day. Her late-evening breakfast felt heavy in her stomach. As she got walking, though, Mae gradually felt herself getting better. She still felt miserable, but at least she wasn't horribly miserable.

As usual, it didn't take Mae long to get to Underhill. Once she got there, she saw Possum Spring's greatest poet sitting on their front step. Mae wondered what all Selmers did with her day. Had she gotten that job at Ham Panther? Did she spend all day sitting on a stoop, thinking up poems?

Mae walked around to the front of the stoop. Selmers immediately gave a friendly, mellow smile when she saw her. "Heya, neighbor," she said. Her smile seemed to falter. "Oh, wow. You okay?"

Oh, jeez, was it really that obvious? Mae sighed. "Saw my ex at a club," she said. "Drank a bunch at a club. Then I had weird dreams and confronted my inner problems."

"Wow, jeez," Selmers said. "Bad hangover?"

"I've been asleep for, like, half a day," Mae grumbled. "How do I still have a hangover? Shouldn't it have worn off?"

"They can last for a while," Selmers said. "That's why I don't drink too much. I mean, if Miller's did karaoke more often, I'd prob'ly drink every night, but…"

"We need to get you a dedicated karaoke place," Mae said. "Or someone should buy one of those machines or something. Whatever you call 'em."

"I think they're just called karaoke machines," Selmers said.

"Oh," Mae said. For some reason, that was really disappointing.

"So, you up to anything today?" Selmers asked. Mae could only shrug in response.

"I dunno. It's been an intense weekend. I kinda just want to relax and do whatever." As soon as Mae said this, though, she realized she was tempting fate. Life hadn't been giving her any brakes lately. It was probably going to keep sucking for a while.

"That's cool," Selmers said. "I'm probably gonna work on my poems. Been having the worst writer's block lately. I've only written a little. Wanna hear what I wrote?"

"Do you even need to ask?" Mae said with a laugh. Selmers and her poems always helped cheer Mae up. Even if it was one of her long, intense poems, Selmers usually had something to improve Mae's mood. Today would probably be no exception.

Selmers smiled, cleared her throat, and began to recite. "I had a dream about a dog," she said, her voice carrying a certain rhythm as she spoke. When she was done, she paused.

Mae stood there and waited patiently for Selmer to continue. After a few second, however, Mae realized that Selmers hadn't been joking about the writer's block. "Is that it?" Mae asked.

Selmers nodded. "Yeah," she said. "Don't know what to write next. I don't remember the dog dream all that well." She shrugged in a way that said 'What're you gonna do?' and leaned back on the stoop. Even when struggling in the face of creative sterility, Selmers remained mellow. Mae really admired that.

"Well," Mae said. "I'm gonna head out and see what Bea's doing. I feel like I need some Bea time."

Selmers shrugged again. "I don't really know who Bea is, but okay."

* * *

The Ol' Pickaxe. The ol'est store in town. It was so ol' that it had been built before they invented the letter D. At least, that's the lie Mae had told the Harleys once. They'd been dumber back then, though. Mae didn't know if they'd buy that sort of thing now.

The store was still open when Mae dropped by. She'd been a little worried that she'd slept past its closing. Mae really needed to start looking at clocks, or learning what time people did things. Eh. That was a chore for another day.

Bea was behind the counter, like always. She had a lit cigarette in her mouth. Mae always thought it was kind of odd that Bea could get away with smoking at work. Then again, Possum Springs was small enough that Bea likely didn't get many complaints. Possum Springs was like its own weird little world.

There was an awkward silence when Mae made her way to the counter. While Mae couldn't remember much about last night, she knew that she and Bea had kind of gotten into it. Mae hoped she hadn't forgotten about another of Bea's dead relatives. There'd be egg on her face then.

It was Bea who broke the silence. "Hey," she said. From the sound of her voice, she was clearly apologetic. "How you holding up?"

Mae sighed. The walk from Underhill to the Pickaxe had not helped her hangover. "Barely," she grumbled. "Sorry for being an ass last night."

"Me too," Bea said. "I mean, I'm glad I said what I said, but not how I said it. Just… yeah." Bea took a drag of her cigarette and pulled it from her lips. "I'm also sorry I didn't stop you from drinking a whole cocktail in less than three minutes."

Mae winced. "Can we just go ahead and blame Cole for that? I wouldn't have drunk it so fast if he hadn't shown up."

Bea raised an eyebrow and gave Mae a skeptical look. "I don't think you can blame your ex for your poor impulse control," she said. "If you'd talked to him like a normal person, you wouldn't have rushed to get wasted. Again."

"When have I ever been able to talk like a normal person?" Mae asked. "Especially around Cole? You can't talk like a normal person around someone you nearly killed and then puked on."

Bea considered this as she placed her cigarette back between her lips. "I mean, that's a good point," she said. "I guess I've never been in that position, so I wouldn't know."

That got Mae thinking a little. "Have you ever actually kissed someone?" She asked. "I mean, besides the dude you had sex with at math camp."

Mae, internally, had decided to call the guy who Bea had lost her virginity to 'Math Boy Joe.'

Bea groaned, rolling her eyes. "God, I wish you'd never heard that story," she said. "Look, I went on one or two dates while you were at college. Never went very far, though. So, yes, I have kissed and been kissed."

"Anyone I know?" Mae asked. She was feeling pretty gossipy.

Bea at least didn't look annoyed. She crossed her arms over her chest, seeming to think about it. "I went out for coffee with this guy Jackie introduced me to," she said. "Guy turned out to be a douche, though, so we only kissed once. Then there was Steve—"

That made Mae's eyes widen. As far as she knew, there was only one Steve in Possum Springs. "Scriggins?!" Mae blurted out. "You kissed Effing Steve Scriggins?!"

Bea looked a little bit embarrassed. Actually, she looked ashamed. If she'd kissed Steve, Mae couldn't blame her. "Believe me, it's not something I look back on fondly," Bea muttered. "It wasn't even a good kiss. He used too much tongue."

"You kissed with tongue?!" Mae asked.

"Is that really more surprising than me having sex?" Bea asked, perplexed.

Mae opened her mouth to reply, but the sound of the bell over the Pickaxe's door ringing interrupted her. Ordinarily, Mae would have kept on talking, but for some reason she didn't. Judging by the shocked, surprised look on Bea's face, it was probably a good thing Mae wasn't talking.

Bea gave Mae a worried look. The look in Bea's eyes said 'Mae, don't freak out or anything, but there's a dude behind you who you'll freak out about.'

Mae gave Bea a look of her own. The look in Mae's eyes said 'Jeez, Bea, I'm not a mind reader. I don't understand what you're trying to say.' And with that bit of non-conversation out of the way, Mae turned around. When she saw who was at the door, she immediately began to wonder if she was under some sort of curse.

Because standing in the front door of the Ol' Pickaxe was Cole.

Running into Cole at the club had been a pretty unbelievable coincidence. Running into him again, at the Ol' Pickaxe? That was God or whatever screwing with her.

For a second or two, Cole and Mae just stared at each other. It seemed that even stupid, well-balanced Cole felt awkward after last night. He nodded at Mae and Bea, waving a little. Mae couldn't do anything except return the nod.

There was an uncomfortable quiet all throughout the shop. Nobody seemed to know exactly what to say. The silence was shattered by someone in the back dropping something heavy onto their foot. That seemed to snap at least Bea back to reality.

"Uh, hey," she said. "Did you need anything?"

Cole cleared his throat, trying politely to avoid making eye contact with Mae. "My dad wanted me to pick up an order for him," he said. "I guess he ordered some sort of special hammer, or something?"

Bea nodded. "Oh, yeah," she said. "The special hammer. I know what you're talking about. It's in the back." She quietly observed the room.

Mae shot her a look that said 'Oh God Bea don't leave me here. I'll puke on him again somehow.'

Bea shot Mae a look that said 'I actually have a job to do. You can be alone with him for five minutes.' With that, she turned and walked into the back of the store. By the time Mae found enough voice to ask her to stop, Bea had disappeared behind the doorframe.

For a while, Mae and Cole just tried to politely avoid staring at each other. Mae found herself looking at anything else. Hammers, brochures, cash register, weird guy with a mustache in the back… nothing held Mae's attention long.

It was Cole who spoke first. Of course it was. Cole seemed determined to be as casual as possible about this whole weird thing.

"So, did you have a good birthday?" He asked. He didn't sound as friendly as he did last night. It seemed like he was just trying to make conversation. That asshole.

"God, what are you even doing here?" Mae said under her breath. When she actually heard herself, though, Mae realized she hadn't been as quiet as she'd hoped. She'd been loud enough for Cole to hear her, for one.

"My dad ordered a special hammer," Cole said.

Mae groaned. "No, I mean what are you doing in Possum Springs?"

Cole blinked. His stupid, cute, glasses-wearing face looked confused, and also stupid. "I told you all about it last night," he said. "I'm in town for a few weeks because of those scorpions."

Mae stared blankly at Cole. She must have really gotten drunk last night if she didn't remember a story involving scorpions. Scorpions were like little insect tanks, prowling the deserts in search for vengeance.

Unfortunately, Mae couldn't keep thinking about scorpions like she might have wanted to. She was too distracted by stupid Cole and his stupid standing around. What was taking Bea so long with that special hammer?

And what was a special hammer, anyway?

Stupid Cole, showing up out of the blue. Just like Andy Cullen. It was like coming back to Possum Springs was digging up all sorts of ghosts.

Cole stood there, hands in his pockets. He rocked back and forth on the balls of his heels. He didn't seem to know exactly what to say. This whole situation was probably pretty bad for him, too.

The awkward silence was getting to Mae. God. Fine. If Cole wasn't going to be a mature adult and say something, Mae would.

"Every time I see you I start tasting candied almonds and I feel like I'm gonna puke up my guts," Mae said. Probably not the most flattering thing to say, but it at least ended the awkward silence.

Cole stared at Mae, baffled. "I'm sorry?" He said.

"Oh my god, stop apologizing, you huge nerd!" Mae said. "Why are you so nice all of the time?! I nearly killed you!"

Cole blinked, seemingly not understanding what Mae was saying. "You mean at prom?"

That threw Mae for a loop. What else could she possibly be talking about? "Yes, at prom!" Mae said, practically shouting in disbelief. "Why would I not be talking about prom?! That was, like, one of the most humiliating nights of my life!"

Cole was silent for a bit. He pulled his hand from his pocket and rubbed the back of his head. "I mean, I was unconscious for part of it," he said. His expression was fairly sheepish. "A lot of that night is fuzzy. I mostly remember hanging with you and then driving home."

Okay, that kind of made sense. Mae had seriously choked him out when she'd stuffed those paper towels into his mouth. Still, Mae felt like he was taking this far too lightly.

"Wait," Cole said. "Is that why you don't like seeing me? Because I remind you of prom?" Cole looked absolutely flabbergasted. Him and his ridiculous trucker hat that he'd apparently started wearing. "This whole time I thought you were mad at me for avoiding you."

"What?" Mae asked. She certainly hadn't expected to hear that. "Dude, I was mostly mad at you for, like, bailing on me and leaving me stranded at prom. You avoiding me was completely understandable."

After prom, they'd both sort of avoided each other. Mae supposed they hadn't so much broken up, as they'd just sort of… stopped talking to each other? It was sort of anticlimactic, but their relationship had been a big, dumb teenage nothing. It didn't really need a big, dramatic breakup.

When Mae brought up Cole leaving her at prom, his face took on a guilty expression. "Oh," he said. "Oh, yeah. I didn't even think to apologize for that until after I'd left for college. God, I don't blame you for hating me. How'd you even get home?"

Mae sighed. "Josh," she said. "The guy with the tractor. He gave me a ride because I was super pathetic and shit." Josh would always kind of be Mae's hero for that. She hoped he was kicking ass at whatever he was doing.

Another silence fell on them. This one wasn't nearly as awkward, though. It was the kind of silence that happened when you had a lot to process. Mae and Cole both stood in the Ol' Pickaxe, twiddling their thumbs and waiting for Bea to return.

Finally, Mae couldn't take it, and she said something she'd never thought she'd say to Cole again: "Let's go do something stupid."

* * *

The 'something stupid' in this case was only mildly stupid. At least, compared to Mae's long line of stupid experiences, it was. After a bit of a hike, Cole and Mae were sitting on top of the Ol' Pickaxe. They sat on the edge, their feet dangling off the side. Moving outside had made things even less awkward, which was okay.

"So, uh," Mae said. "How's college going?"

Cole nodded slowly. "Fine, fine," he said. "I mean, except for the scorpions. Once that's cleared up, it'll be good."

Quiet again; the sound of wind, and cars passing in the street below. Out towards the Video Outpost, Mae could hear someone arguing with someone else. Probably about something dumb. Like special hammers.

"How's, uh…" Cole fidgeted awkwardly on the roof's edge. "How are things with the hot girl you mentioned?"

Oh, jeez, he was bringing that up? While things weren't as bad as before, talking about relationships with Cole seemed like it would be pretty awkward. Even though Mae was more or less over with him, it felt weird to talk about stuff like this with her ex.

Then again, this was the first real conversation Mae had had with her ex since senior prom.

"Kinda good. Sort of," Mae said. "I've talked to her twice and forgotten to get her info both times."

"Maybe you should carry flash cards," Cole joked. That got a chuckle out of Mae. "Does she live far away? Like, Hunwick or something?"

Mae shook her head. "No, farther," Mae said. "I don't actually know where she lives. I met her in a club up in…" Mae paused. She'd been up to that club three times now, and Mae was only just realizing she had no idea what town it was in.

After a moment, Mae settled on giving the info she did know. "You know that town, like two hours away? College town? It has a theater, and an awful pizza place?" When Cole gave her a blank look, Mae continued. "Has a river called Red Winder?"

Cole shook his head slowly. "No, sorry," he said. "I'm, like, bad at directions. My college is out of state, anyway. I don't really know where any clubs are."

Mae nodded. Cole didn't exactly seem like the club-going type. He'd been more of a coffee house, bonfire party kind of guy. Not that Possum Springs had a coffee house. The closest thing was probably the Snack Falcon.

The two continued to sit in silence. Out in the distance, Mae could see the bright blue sky stretch on forever. The sun was way too bright today. Mae already missed the fall. She wanted to see the leaves changing, and feel the cold chill in the air. Oh, well. Spring came with its own nice things.

Longer days. Flowers on the hills. Light spring rain and the smell that came with it.

Mae wondered if she'd be able to enjoy the spring without Gregg and Angus. They hadn't set a date for their move, but Mae could feel the day drawing closer. Bright Harbor would eat up her two best friends, and Mae would be Gregg-less for the first time in years.

Whatever. Now wasn't the time for that. Mae was finally having a normal rooftop conversation with her ex. She couldn't get bogged down in her dumb emotions. Save that shit for Bort Feldman.

Mae wanted to say something and keep the conversation going. But she couldn't think of anything. Nothing except one question she'd always wondered.

"So, real talk," Mae said. She gazed down at her feet, dangling over the sidewalk below. "And don't think I'm fishing for compliments or whatever, but… what made you ask me out back in high school?"

Cole laughed quietly. For some reason, that put Mae on edge. Had she asked a dumb question? Well, screw you, Cole. She wasn't effing psychic. When Cole answered her, though, Mae's ire settled down. Slightly. A little.

"I dunno. I just liked you," Cole said. "I thought you were cute, and funny. That's kind of all teenagers need to ask someone out." He threw his shoulders up in a nonchalant shrug.

"Okay, I kind of get what you're saying," Mae said slowly. "But I was never cute. I was edgy and dangerous. I was bad news, kid. The kinda person your parents warned you about."

That brought another chuckle out of Cole. Mae had forgotten how easy it was to make him laugh. "My parents warned me about, like, perverts and kidnappers. Not you. My dad liked you a lot, remember?"

"Nope," Mae said. "I don't." Had she ever met Cole's parents? She felt like she would have remembered that. Then again, Mae could barely remember what she'd eaten before she left the house.

Mae's memory was kind of weird like that.

Cole sighed and looked out towards the horizon. Mae followed suit. Back when they were teenagers, Mae would have thought this sort of thing was super romantic. But now, after the puking, and the avoiding, and the puking again? It was just a thing. A nice thing, sure, but it wasn't the sign of something blossoming between them.

But maybe it was a sign they could be friends? Mae felt like she needed more friends.

"Hey," Mae said finally. "Sorry for puking on you. And, like, avoiding you and getting hung up on past stuff."

"It's cool," Cole said. "Sorry for ditching you at prom."

Mae nodded in response. She didn't know if she could ever really forgive Cole for that, but she could at least not be upset with him about it. Even if that night had traumatized her for life, and even if she still had nightmares about it, Mae and Cole would still be cool.

"We should probably get down from here," Mae said. "Bea's probably pissed we left."

Cole's eyes widened behind his big, nerdy glasses. "Oh, god, I completely forgot," he said. "My dad's probably wondering why he doesn't have that hammer by now."

But, in fact, Cole's dad wasn't wondering that. Because Cole's dad was already at the Pickaxe.

* * *

Getting down from the top of a building is usually faster than getting to the top. More dangerous, but faster. Mae had been confident enough to just leap down to the ground. Cole, meanwhile, had to take the long, boring way, and climbed down. Scaredy-cat.

"I have no idea how you can jump off of stuff like that," Cole said when he finally reached the ground. The two made their way to the front of the shop. The awkward air from earlier was more or less gone. It was like old times between Mae and Cole.

Well, sort of. They weren't dumb teenagers anymore, and Cole wasn't letting Mae copy his homework. Also, Mae didn't want to smooch him nearly as much as she had when they were dating. But the atmosphere had definitely mellowed out between the two of them.

It occurred to Mae that this was what 'making amends' must have been all about. Repairing old relationships. Clearing the air. Getting closure. It hadn't felt good with Levy, because Levy had barely remembered what Mae was making up for.

With Cole, though? Something had been accomplished. Mae had confronted the ghost of the past and spat in its stupid, ghosty face.

The ghost was still there. It would always be there. But even if Mae couldn't unhaunt a haunted house, she could… make the ghost less… spooky?

Mae had lost her train of thought. How did she do that inside of her own head? That didn't seem possible. Whatever.

Cole was the one to open the door when they got to the shop. Mae snickered a bit as her ex held the door for her. Stupid, goofy Cole and his stupid, goofy courtesy.

Mae's levity faded before she was even in the shop; before the bell over the door had even stopped ringing. She felt a chill pass over her body as she took in the sight of the man who was in the shop, talking to Bea. When the bell rang, the man and Bea both turned towards the door. Bea looked annoyed. The man looked pleasantly surprised.

It was the man from the mines. An old guy, dressed all in flannel. Why was he wearing flannel in spring? Who did that? Maybe it was a cultist thing. Like, they wore flannel in the spring so they could recognize each other. But the other cultists were all dead, so Mae hadn't seen any other flannel.

This was all assuming that this guy was one of those cultists. Maybe he was just spooky.

But no, yeah, he was definitely a cultist.

"Where'd you two disappear to?" Bea asked.

Mae didn't answer. She shot Bea terrified look. It was a look that said 'Bea. This is the guy from the mine. This is the guy who was all cryptic about the cave-in. He's in your store.'

Bea shot Mae a look that said 'Whoa, are you having a panic attack? Also, what were you doing with your ex? Is this a thing? Is a thing happening?'

While Mae and Bea were having their nonverbal conversation, though, Cole was entering the shop. Mae wasn't looking at him, but when he spoke, she could practically picture the bashful smile on his face. He and the man were both smiling at each other.

That was when Mae finally realized where she knew the man from.

"I was wondering what was taking you so long!" The man said. His smile had grown into a jovial grin. There was a familiar chuckle in his voice that kind of pissed Mae off. "Look at you! Back two days, and already hobnobbing with your ex?"

"It's not like that, dad," Cole said, laughing. He didn't seem to register the look of panic on Mae's face. Nobody did, except for Bea. The Mom Friend was now the Concerned Friend.

Mae's first thought was that she felt like an idiot for not recognizing Cole's dad. When she'd hung out with Cole at his house, Cole's dad had been a constant friendly face. He'd really liked Mae, and had been happy about her relationship with his son. Cole's mom had hated her, though.

It was only after Mae got over her embarrassment that she realized Cole's dad was a murderer.

"You took so long getting my special hammer that I was worried you'd gotten lost!" Cole's dad, whose name Mae couldn't for the life of her remember, said. He held up a plastic shopping bag with his right hand. Mae could just barely make out something shaped like a hammer through the yellow plastic.

Cole chuckled, embarrassed. Now that they were in the same room, Mae was kind of amazed she hadn't recognized Cole's dad. The family resemblance was uncanny. Probably because they were related, Mae thought.

"Sorry," Cole said. "Kinda lost track of time catching up with Mae."

Cole's dad smiled. "That so?" He said. He turned that smile towards Mae. It wasn't a good smile. Mae had seen Cole's dad smile before, and it hadn't looked like this. Nothing about the way he was looking at Mae felt right.

"Well, I'll leave you kids to it, then," Cole's dad said. "I gotta head home with my new, special hammer. Prob'ly gonna need it for work tomorrow." He gave an exaggerated little eye roll. "You know how my boss is."

Cole's father began to push his way forward, towards the front entrance. "I'll see you around, Mae. Take care of yourself."

The bell over the door rang. Mae kept her back to the door as Cole's dad walked away. She couldn't bring herself to watch him go. She didn't want to see if he was still smiling with just his teeth.

Mae was almost certain he was one of them. He had to be. But, really, Mae didn't have any evidence. Mae didn't even have a gut feeling. All she was going off of was a sense of guilt and paranoia that she hadn't been able to shake since last year.

"Mae?" Bea said. Mae didn't respond right away. She almost felt as if she was dreaming. Mae did her best to focus, and turned towards Bea. Cole looked on in mildly concerned confusion.

Cole said something. Mae wasn't entirely aware of what it was. Nothing felt solid. Finally, Mae found the nerve to speak.

"I think I'm gonna head on home," she said. "I'll talk to you later, Bea."

By the time Bea thought to protest, Mae was already out the door, running towards home.

She could tell everyone later. Tomorrow. Mae could talk Gregg into holding band practice, and they could all talk about it then. Right now, though, Mae needed to think. She needed to clear her head. She needed to eat dinner with her parents and tell them about her day.

Mae needed to feel normal, if only for a little bit. Mae needed to pretend she didn't feel like she was going insane.


	15. Possum Leap

"And so, basically, Cole's dad might be a cultist, and also might know we had something to do with his buds dying. Oh, and I've been having dreams about those dudes in the mine. So that's how my week's going."

It was early in the evening, and the band had finished practice. Mae had contacted Gregg on Chattrbox the night before, asking if he could set up a band practice day. He had been more than happy to. Maybe he'd known Mae had something she needed to talk about. Maybe he just wanted to chill with his friends.

Whatever it was, they'd taken another shot at playing Casey's song, Born to Lose. The more Mae thought about that song, the more it resonated with her. Had Casey been going through stuff like she was going through?

Minus the cult and weird dreams, of course.

When they'd finished their band jam, Mae sat everyone down and explained the situation. Bea was the only one who seemed overtly concerned. Gregg and Angus took what Mae was saying seriously, thank God, but they seemed more worried about Mae's panic attack.

Germ wasn't there, and that was odd. Germ had shown up at all of their band jams lately. Whatever. He was probably off doing his Germy business.

When Mae was done explaining her situation, Angus was the first one who spoke. "Mae," he said, "I don't mean to doubt you, but you don't have that much evidence to go off of. I mean, last year, you at least saw someone."

"And I had weird dreams," Mae pointed out quickly.

Angus seemed to reluctantly concede that point. "Okay, sure," he said. "This time, though, you just have a guy acting strange."

"Ordinarily I'd agree with you," Bea said as she too a drag of her cigarette. "But Mae told us all what Leon said at the mines. Talking about how he hoped no one was caught in the cave-in? That's kind of suspicious to me."

Everyone seemed to digest what Bea had just said. After a bit, Mae spoke. "Who's Leon?" She asked.

It must have been a dumb question, because Bea looked as if Mae had just asked what shoes were. "Cole's dad?" Bea said. "His name is Leon. Did you seriously not know that? You remember almost everyone's names."

Mae frowned. "Yeah, but when I was hanging out with Cole, I didn't, like, regularly ask him what his dad's name was. That's not something people do. When you made out with Steve, did you go around asking what his dad's name was?"

Bea groaned, rolling her eyes. Gregg and Angus both seemed taken aback.

"Wait, what?" Gregg asked, shocked. A big smile spread over his face. Apparently, he found this more hilarious than disturbing. "Oh. My. God. Bea made out with Scriggins?"

"Can we please get back on track?" Bea snapped. She sounded pretty impatient. Mae made a mental note to avoid bringing up her past with Steve from then on. Not unless it would be really, really funny.

"Right, so," Angus said, trying his best to move on from the Scriggins Smooching. "I guess it's possible he could be one of them. That means that there could be any number of others."

Oh, shit. Mae hadn't thought of that. If one member hadn't been there, then who knew how many others might have been absent on the night of the cave-in. If that was the case, then who in town was one of them? Who was planning revenge, or trying to get back into the mines?

Angus continued. "Even if he is one of them, there's no way he'd know we killed the others."

"What if he does know, though?" Mae asked. "What if he's, like, psychic or something? That lead guy said that some of them had a glimmer, or something." Not to mention how Eide had suddenly shown up behind them in the elevator. God, Mae had nightmares about that for weeks.

A weary sigh caught Mae off-guard. From the look on his face, Mae could see that it had come from Angus. He quickly noticed that everyone's eyes were on him, and his expression went bashful. "Sorry," he mumbled.

It took Mae a second to calculate what was going on. When she figured it out, though, she was baffled. "Angus, do you not think he could be psychic? That one guy, like, teleported or something."

Mae studied everyone's faces. From the look on Gregg's, it seemed he wasn't fully convinced, himself. Bea, meanwhile, just looked tired. Mae was guessing that she and Angus had discussed this topic before.

"I can't explain how the guy who grabbed you got on the elevator," Angus confessed. "But, I mean, my mind doesn't immediately leap to supernatural powers. He might have snuck on behind us."

Mae stared blankly at Angus. "Dude," she said. "You saw him. He popped in out of nowhere. That thing in the hole gave him, like, freaky powers."

Angus didn't respond right away. It seemed like he was having a hard time saying whatever he wanted to. Mae watched as Gregg reached out and put a comforting hand on his boyfriend's shoulder. It was gestures like that that made her love those two.

Finally, Angus spoke.

"Mae," he said. "I'm not entirely sure there was anything in that hole."

If Mae was baffled before, she needed a new word for how she felt now. Flummoxed? Shocked? Flabbergasted? Whatever. Angus had just thrown Mae for a loop, and she needed a minute to wrap her head around what he'd said. "What?" She asked.

Angus looked slightly embarrassed. "Like, I can't explain everything that happened last year. But the skeptic in me can't just instantly accept that there was some sort of… eldritch god in that mine."

"But we felt something!" Mae exclaimed. "Or at least I did!"

Angus sighed. "Mae, have you ever heard of Saint Luven's Lantern?"

Mae frowned. "What, is that an anime?" She asked. "I don't watch anime, Angus. Not since I was, like, twelve."

"No, it's not an anime," Angus said wearily. "It's a phenomenon where specific underground gases can lead to specific individuals experiencing hallucinations. They start hearing things, or feeling unseen presences. When the mines were open, Possum Springs had a real problem with gas leaks causing people to act strangely."

Mae wanted to retort that what she'd felt was no hallucination. But something about what Angus said scared her. Her experiences with that thing, that Black Goat, had just been feelings. Feelings and sounds and dreams. Saint Whoever's Lantern didn't explain everything, but it explained a lot.

"So, it wasn't a cult of murderous baby boomers," Bea said. "It was a cult of murderous baby boomers who'd been gassed out of their minds?"

Angus just shrugged. "I mean, it makes sense, doesn't it? There might be a gas leak in town that hasn't been discovered yet."

To Mae's surprise, Bea was the one out of the group to express some doubt. "I don't know if I buy that," she said. "At least, not completely. I definitely felt something down there. What are the odds that me and Mae would both be affected by the gas or whatever?"

"I mean, it's just a theory," Angus said defensively. "It doesn't even explain everything, but it's all I've got. I'd rather believe those guys were just crazy. It's better than believing there's something living in the mines."

Mae still couldn't believe that Angus didn't believe what she believed had happened, but she believed she could understand. After hearing about Whatever's Lantern, Mae wasn't so certain herself anymore. That night in the mines had had a dreamlike quality, and Mae herself wasn't sure what she'd experienced and what she'd imagined.

It was scary, not knowing what was real and what wasn't.

"Okay, getting back on track," Gregg said, "Even if this guy is one of those guys, what are we supposed to do?"

Mae thought about it for a bit. "We could stalk him!" She exclaimed. That got her more than a few odd looks from her friends. Jeez, why were Mae's friends always so down on her great ideas?

"Mae, that doesn't sound like a great idea," Bea said. "For a lot of reasons. I mean, either he's a cultist and he tries to kill us, or he's a normal guy and he calls the police."

"He'll only kill or arrest us if we get caught," Mae said slyly, an eyebrow cocked. Nobody seemed to be buying her logic.

Mae threw her hands up in the air in exasperation. "Okay, fine." She said. "We'll just live the rest of our lives never knowing if we're gonna get murdered to death. That's cool. That's a good idea. Not like I don't already have enough on my plate already without this shit."

"I'm not saying we should do nothing," Bea said with a sigh. "But Mae, this isn't some kid's detective story. We need to be smart about this. Or at least smarter than we were last year."

"What about what we did last year wasn't smart?" Mae asked defensively.

"I mean, you wound up getting shot at and having a mini breakdown inside of a mine," Gregg pointed out. "I'd personally like to avoid anything that leads to that happening."

"Same," Angus said.

Okay, that was fair. But what were the odds of that happening again? Pretty good, actually. Lots of people in Possum Springs owned guns. Casey had been really looking forward to being able to buy a bunch of guns. That wasn't going to happen now, sadly. Unless they sold guns in the afterlife.

"I guess we could, like…" Mae rubbed her chin. "I dunno. We could go around town. Try and find leads about, like, culty stuff."

"What kinda leads?" Gregg asked.

Bea piped in with her own comment. "They were a secret cult that was only around since the 90's," she said. "That's only, like, twenty years. They might not have left a lot of clues. Or maybe they did. I don't know what people did in the 90's."

"I remember a lot of weird commercials," Angus said.

Mae struggled to keep her mind focused on the topic at hand, and not get distracted by thinking of commercials from the 90's she remembered. She tried, instead, to think of anything weird that had been happening lately; anything that might point towards cult activity.

Nothing really came to mind aside from Cole's dad. They could always check out the mines, but what would that accomplish? Those old tunnels were sealed shut, more or less.

There had to be something, though. Were Mae's feelings of general unease related to supernatural events, or was she just… sad? If Mae's dreams meant anything, she was carrying some serious guilt around. Guilt about things she couldn't say, and about secrets she had to keep.

Just then, Mae experienced what nerds in college refer to as a Eureka moment. Mae didn't know what Eureka meant, though, so instead she just thought 'Holy shit!'

There was one thing that all of Mae's dreams lately had had in common: Possum Leap. At first, Mae thought she was dreaming about Possum Leap because of her guilt towards Levy. But Levy and Mae were cool now. So why would Mae still be dreaming about it?

Mae remembered last year, on the night of Harfest, when she'd had a dream about a well. The well that had been their one way out after the cave-in. That had definitely been weird. Not a lot weirder than other stuff, but weird nonetheless.

The more Mae thought about it, the more sense it made. Finally, when she'd convinced herself, she spoke up. She tried her best to make her hunch sound as normal as humanly possible.

"Hey, I've had weird dreams about Possum Leap. Let's go up there."

Everyone stared at Mae for a minute. Mae was kind of used to people looking like that when she said something like this. Bea opened her mouth to speak. Mae didn't want to answer whatever question she had, so Mae just kept talking.

"Look, it's better than nothing, right?" Mae asked.

"Technically, I guess?" Angus said. "I haven't been up to Possum Leap since high school."

"None of us have, I think," Gregg said. "Not since that party where Mae got covered in chips and got into a fist fight with Ron Boonstra."

Mae frowned. "Okay, I've tried to block out a lot of that night, but I'm fairly certain that didn't happen." She felt like she'd remember getting into a fight with a big footballman. "Well, whatever. We can all head up there tonight, right?"

Gregg and Angus exchanged a look while Bea took a drag of her cigarette. Mae knew that look. It was the 'Should you tell her, or should I tell her we have plans?' look. Evidently, they settled on having Gregg tell her, as he was the one to speak up.

"We're actually expecting a phone call tonight," Gregg said. "Like, the landlord in Bright Harbor should be calling us. Probably."

This upset Mae, but not because of her mixed feelings about Gregg's move. "What kind of landlord makes a phone call after six?" She asked.

"Unorthodox business hours," Angus said, "are a sign of cheap apartments."

Mae guessed that made sense. She didn't have enough experience with apartments to question it, really.

"I can take you, Mae," Bea said. Mae felt herself let loose a sigh of relief. She didn't wanna hike out to Possum Leap, so Bea's car was a blessing. "Don't want you wandering around the woods at night. Alone. Again."

Mae groaned and rolled her eyes. "You guys are never gonna let that go, are you?"

* * *

It had been a few years since Casey had driven Mae and the gang up to Possum Leap. As Bea drove her up along that familiar road, though, Mae found that the sights were oddly familiar. She wasn't sure why; Possum Leap wasn't a very common destination for her.

Some landscapes just kind of stick in a person's mind.

Mae was still looking out the window when the car gradually came to a stop. Mae snapped back to reality to find that Bea hadn't driven up into the woods, like Mae had expected. Rather, Bea had done the boring thing and parked in the parking lot.

"Don't feel like off-roading?" Mae joked as she popped the door open and hopped out onto the black, hot parking lot.

"There's a parking lot for a reason, Mae," Bea said. Stepping out of the car, she slammed the door shut behind her and lit a fresh cigarette. Mae watched Bea take a long, deep drag before Mae decided to start walking to the forest.

Mae looked around at the nearly empty parking lot. Though it was late, the sky was darkening slowly. Days were getting longer and longer.

Aside from Bea's car, there were only a few trucks scattered around at opposite sides of the lot. They probably belonged to people who… went into the woods and did woods stuff. Like, the people who cleaned the woods and took care of the trees. Or maybe druids? Druids probably didn't drive trucks.

The trucks didn't matter. They were just something to look at. Mae had to look at them to avoid looking at the big, creepy statue at the very end of the parking lot. Unfortunately, with the way Bea had parked, the two of them had to pass by the statue as they made their way into the woods.

Mae was happy to just walk past the damn thing, but then Bea spoke up. "Wait, hold up. I wanna look at this."

Reluctantly, Mae came to a stop a few feet away from the memorial. Bea was looking at it with mild interest. Her eyes drifted from the statue to the podium it stood on, and the plaque that was attached. Judging by how quickly Bea had stopped looking at the statue, Mae guessed she found it creepy, too.

On the surface, the thing wasn't too creepy. It was just an old statue of a Civil War guy. But it was the details that really amped up the spook factor. Whatever they had made the statue out of, it was almost pitch black. Not gray, or dark gray, but as black as the space between the stars.

The stone figure's head was bowed. With Bea standing right in front of him, it looked like the statue was staring straight at her. The statue's eyes were big and featureless; freaky, stony circles that seemed to be looking at everything all at once.

Mae's family had come up here once or twice in the past, back when her Granddad was still alive. Mae had been really freaked out by the statue. Hell, she still was. They'd stopped coming to Possum Leap when Mae made it clear how scared she was of the thing.

As Bea read the plaque on the bottom of the statue, Mae wandered behind her best friend. She had always been so scared of the statue that she barely remembered what it said on the plaque. Over Bea's shoulder, Mae read the inscription:

MEMENTO MORI

DEDICATED TO THE 72 BRAVE MEN WHO TRAGICALLY LOST THEIR LIVES DURING THE SKIRMISH AT POSSUM LEAP

NOBODY TOLD THEM THE WAR WAS OVER

Beneath this dedication was a list of the 72 soldiers who had started shooting at each other one week after the Civil War officially ended. Mae's Granddad had been a big Civil War buff, and he had always regarded the Skirmish at Possum Leap as one of the most embarrassing things to ever get a memorial dedicated to it.

Mae guessed it was kind of tragic, in a stupid way.

"Man, can't go ten feet in this town without running into a war memorial," Mae joked. Bea just made a sort of grunt in response. She took another drag of her cigarette and then turned to face Mae.

"So, where's the place you had this party?" She asked.

Mae reached out and pointed at the hill that led into the woods. "Somewhere out there," Mae said. "Amongst the trees and critters. There's, like, a bonfire pit, or whatever you call it. I dunno. Have you seriously never been up there?"

Bea just shrugged. "Don't think so. I don't think we went to a lot of the same parties in high school."

Mae nodded. It was kind of weird to look back and think about the period of time when she and Bea weren't friends. Back in middle school, they'd had a fight. Mae had more or less stopped interacting with Bea after that.

Then, a few months later, the softball incident had happened.

God, that whole stretch of time in Mae's life had been awful. As she and Bea made their way up into the woods, Mae wondered if everything had been kicked off by Granddad's passing. It wasn't the first time Mae had thought this might be the case. Her Granddad had been a huge part of her life, and one day he had just started to fade away.

Mae'd never really talked about this with anyone. She'd made peace with her Granddad's death, more or less, but she still felt as if it had left a mark on her. It was the first bad thing in a long line of bad things.

Another thing for Bort Feldman to hear about, Mae guessed. Her next appointment was what, a week from now? Mae had no idea, really. She needed a calendar or something.

Mae must have been lost in her thoughts for a while, because before she knew it, Bea had stopped. They'd reached the site of the party that Mae tried not to think about.

The place had definitely seen better days. There were all sorts of trash and pieces of crap littered around the site. Plastic cups, scraps of paper, and a countless amount of cigarettes. The charred-black bonfire looked like it hadn't been used in a long while. The trees that surrounded the clearing had all sorts of crude, lewd messages inscribed on them. Someone had actually tried spray painting some of them, it seemed.

"God, old party sites are so depressing," Bea grumbled. Mae was inclined to agree with her.

"I guess teens just don't hang around up here anymore," Mae said. Hands on her hips, she approached the burnt out remains of the last bonfire. She noticed with some disgust that there were a few condoms among the logs and ashes. She hoped they weren't used ones.

"With all the crap around here, I wouldn't either," Bea said.

Mae wandered to one of the overturned logs that formed a square around the burnt out bonfire. It was covered in black, grimy dirt, but Mae had sat on grosser stuff. She hopped onto the log and looked out at the ashen logs.

Bea walked over and joined her, but she didn't sit down. Mae kind of got that. Bea's clothes were nice and stuff. They were a lot nicer than Mae's old jeans that she wore almost every day, at least.

"So," Bea said. "What now?"

Mae pondered that question for a little while before simply shrugging. "I dunno," she said. "I'm not even sure why I thought this was a good idea. It just, like, popped into my head."

Bea raised a brow and gave Mae a mildly concerned look. She held her cigarette between the fingers of her left hand, and the smoke drifted over to tickle at Mae's nose. Mae hated that smell. It didn't help that she was allergic, either. Mae hoped that scientists would invent a cure for allergies soon.

"So, we came here for reasons you don't know, and we're trying to find something you don't know exists," Bea recapped, her tone carrying a light air of sarcasm. "Why are you the one in charge of these investigations, again?"

Mae just scoffed, rolling her eyes a bit. "You don't have to get all snippy, Beatrice. I know this is stupid."

"That's good, I guess," Bea said. "I mean, I'm supporting you here, Mae, but you've gotta plan crap out better."

"Bea, you've known me for years. When have I ever been able to plan anything successfully?"

Bea didn't have an answer for that.

The two sat there for a while longer before Mae finally got fed up with all of it. With a groan, she stood up. The bottom of her pants felt all dirty and muddy, but whatever. She had other jeans. Probably.

"Okay, this is a bust so far," Mae said. "Maybe we should, like, go further out into the woods?"

"I'm pretty sure that's not a good idea," Bea said. "There's, like, a bunch of old houses out here. If we wandered onto someone's private property, we could get arrested or shot at."

Mae laughed at that. "Wouldn't be the first time," she said. "Who lives out here, though? Hermits? Forest wizards?"

Bea sighed, shrugging her shoulders. "I dunno, Mae. Some of the guys at the shop come out here on fixit jobs. I think some rich guy lives out here, too. Like, his great-grandpa owned the old sawmill that shut down."

"You can get rich off of a sawmill?" Mae asked skeptically.

"Rich enough to buy an old cabin in the woods," Bea joked. "I just know about him because he's needed a lot of repair work done lately." She shrugged again, placing the cigarette between her lips. "I'm in no hurry to meet him. Bill says he's a creep."

"Well, he lives in the woods, so that's a given," Mae said.

Bea just laughed at that, and Mae felt her mood improve a little. Bea seemed so sad all the time. It cheered Mae up to make her laugh like that. Mae wished she could to more to help Bea than just make her laugh, though.

The warm spring air drifted through the trees. Everything looked so green as the sun's light began to die down. Mae could hear birds singing, and insects buzzing. Everything felt so relaxing that she almost didn't hear a twig snap from somewhere behind her.

Mae spun around quickly to catch whatever had made the noise. Bea looked on in confusion until her focus shifted to the man standing a few feet away from them.

Mae had never seen the man in town before. She felt like she'd recognize someone who looked like him. He was basically just a skeleton with skin. His angry eyes seemed almost sunken in, surrounded by black circles. The man wore a neck brace, and his right arm was in a sling.

Other than all that, though, he looked kind of like Mae. An older, effed-up, taller version of Mae who was a man who lived in the woods, but a version of Mae nonetheless.

When he spoke, his voice was deep and craggily, yet somehow vaguely familiar.

"What the hell are you kids doing out here?" He asked.

"Adults," Mae corrected. She might have been caught off-guard by this guy, but she wasn't going to let him call her a kid. "Do we need a reason to be out here?"

"Mae, no," Bea whispered. She sounded fairly agitated. Mae guessed she was freaked out by the walking corpse in front of them. That was kind of understandable, but Mae knew he was just some guy. Probably not a zombie.

The man scowled at Mae's response, and put his free arm on his hip. "If you brats don't tell me why you're out here, I'm calling the police. This is private property."

Mae balked at that. She may not have known much about the layout of the town, but she was fairly certain that this guy was screwing with them. "No it isn't!" She cried out.

The man's eyes narrowed. "It's adjacent to private property," he clarified.

"We were just going," Bea said quickly, and she forcibly grabbed onto Mae's shoulder and began guiding her away. Mae glanced over her shoulder at the stranger, who was still glaring at them. Mae didn't know if she'd ever seen anyone look so angry at… well, at everything.

The guy was clearly hostile. Mae decided the smartest decision would be to speak to him respectfully as she and Bea left.

"Have a good evening, creepo. Enjoy your trees."

"Mae, no!" Bea said again, though this time much more harshly. Mae didn't care, though. She didn't mind being chastised for calling out a creep.

The strange man watched angrily as Mae and Bea hurried away. Over her shoulder, Mae watched as the man lifted his free arm up high in the air and raised a single, solitary finger. Mae got the message loud and clear. She lifted her hand and returned the gesture, much to Bea's frustration.

"Oh my god, Mae," she hissed in Mae's ears. "Don't flip off strangers in the middle of the woods! That's common sense!"

"He started it," Mae grumbled. "Guy goes and calls us kids, but he's about as immature as I am."

Bea groaned as the ground evened out beneath them, and before too long they were back at the edge of the parking lot. The war memorial didn't look any less creepy in the dying spring sunlight. Its shadow stretched out across the parking lot; a long, thick arm reaching out to grab Bea's car.

"Who was that guy, anyway?" Bea asked. When they made it onto the blacktop of the parking lot, she finally let go of Mae. Mae, in turn, looked at Bea with a raised eyebrow.

"What makes you think I know?" Mae asked. "He was just some pissed dude in the woods. I don't know a whole lot of those."

Bea shrugged. Her cigarette had burnt down quite a bit. Mae guessed that it'd be going into the car's ashtray before too long. "Well," Bea explained, "I assumed he was pissed because you did something to him. A lot of folks in town have some sort of grudge against you."

Mae scoffed. "What, do you think I broke his arm? Or his neck? I've never seen the guy before today."

"So, he was just some asshole out in the woods?"

"Possum Springs is full of 'em," Mae said in a comically low voice, her eyes narrowed. She returned her expression to normal and chuckled soon after. "No, but seriously. I know this was kind of a bust, but thanks for taking me out here."

Bea nodded. She wasn't smiling; she didn't seem to do that too often anymore. It was a shame, really. Mae had always liked Bea's smile.

"It was no problem," Bea said. "I mean, it wasn't that far of a drive, and I didn't have anything better to do. At least this time we didn't dig up a corpse and get hassled by weird teens."

Mae, who still smiled quite often, did so. "There's always next time," she said.

That got another laugh out of Bea, and Mae was pleased to see it brought a smile to her friend's face. "Okay, you," she said. "Let's get you home. Hopefully we don't bump into any more assholes on the way."

As Mae and Bea made their way back to Bea's car, and the sun set in the darkening sky, Mae found herself feeling better than she had in a while. Hanging with Bea had gotten Mae's mind off of Casey, and Gregg, and Cole's cultist dad. Just being around a best friend could do that, Mae guess.

While Mae and Bea walked, they talked, joked, and Mae teased Bea over her kiss with Steve Scriggins.

Meanwhile, at the top of the hill that led to Possum Leap, the man with his arm in a sling watched them leave.


	16. Not Much Happens

Mae hadn't wanted to come to Dr. Feldman's office. If she hadn't made a promise to Bea, she probably wouldn't have. But she had, and she did, and now she was here. Mae had dreaded the whole car ride up to his office in Briddle. She'd dreaded the short wait in the waiting room. And she'd dreaded the walk down the hallway into Dr. Feldman's sparse office.

The problem was that Mae didn't want to confront her problems. She didn't want to talk about them. Talking about something made it more real.

And besides all that, Mae knew that Feldman would think she was crazy. Everything that happened in the last month aside, Mae had a lot of issues to work through. She hadn't heard Casey talk to her for a few days, but she was still having dreams.

Not about Possum Leap, though. No, Mae's dreams had moved on into the dark, cold recesses of the mines. Usually, she was all alone in those dreams. She hadn't been visited by Casey, or the janitor, or those spooky ghost musicians.

Just Mae. Alone. Mae hated being alone.

"So," Dr. Feldman said when he and Mae had taken their seats, "how have you been? Any interesting stories to tell?"

Oh, boy did she ever. But Mae didn't know exactly what she could or couldn't talk about. Her birthday? Her dreams? The cult? Probably not that, huh? That'd be a bad thing to bring up. So, instead, Mae decided to talk about what Dr. Feldman had wanted to hear from the beginning.

"I actually wanted to start today by talking about the softball incident," Mae said quietly.

That seemed to take Dr. Feldman by surprise. He sat up, taking notice, and put his pen to his notes. From the look of things, he hadn't been expecting this. Hell, Mae hadn't been expecting it, either.

"Oh, okay," Dr. Feldman said. He looked deeply interested in whatever Mae had to say. Mae guessed that's just how therapists acted when they were about to hear about the time their patient nearly killed a kid.

Mae took a deep breath. This wasn't a story she liked telling. It wasn't anything she liked to think about. But, again, she had made that promise to Bea. Even if Mae was utter garbage, and even if she couldn't do anything on her own, she could keep a promise to her best friend.

"Like, I guess my parents told you the basics, but I don't know if they could explain it super well," Mae said. "Hell, I don't know how well I can explain it."

"Would it help you to write it down?" Dr. Feldman asked.

Mae kind of laughed at that. "No," she said. "I mean, maybe? I feel like if I took the time to write it down, I'd wuss out. So I want to get everything out in the air right now. Well, almost everything. All the important stuff."

"That's plenty," Feldman said, smiling a bit. "The important stuff is the most… well, important."

Mae could only nod at that. Like, he wasn't wrong. There wasn't really any way to argue with that.

"Alright," Mae said. She took a deep breath, psyching herself up. On the car ride over, Mae had been so certain she'd be able to talk about it. Now, though, while she sat on Dr. Feldman's uncomfortable couch? Mae found it incredibly difficult to muster up the courage she needed.

"It all started happening a little while after my granddad died," Mae explained. "I was super into this computer game where you dated ghosts."

"Spook Smoochers?" Dr. Feldman asked. Mae looked up at him in confusion.

"Er, no," Mae said. "That wasn't it." A thought occurred to her. "Are there multiple games where you can date ghosts? Is that, like, a genre?"

Dr. Feldman looked a bit embarrassed. Mae guessed he might have had personal experience playing Spook Smoochers, and was embarrassed about his secret getting out. "Never mind that," he said. "Please, continue."

Mae nodded hurriedly, and looked down at her feet. She was starting to realize that she was wringing her hands together. "Right, so, I was super into this game. The story, the characters, they all felt real, you know? I was spending almost all of my time playing it."

"Why?"

That question caught Mae off-guard. She hadn't really expected Dr. Feldman to interject during her story. She looked up at him, his glasses lowered as he returned her glance. He held his pen to his notepad, seemingly in the middle of writing something down. Mae had to wonder what he had written so far.

"Why?" Mae repeated. "I mean, it was a good game. I just spent a lot of my free time playing it."

"Does part of you think you spent too much time playing it?" Feldman asked.

Again, Mae was caught by surprise. What did that question have to do with her story? They weren't going to get anywhere if Feldman kept saying words at her. Surely, as a therapist, he must have known that asking questions was rude, and he shouldn't do it.

Now that Mae thought about it, though, how much had she played that game? Certainly a lot. She could still quote parts of it. But too much? Mae wasn't so sure about that. Was there such a thing as too much video games?

That was a dumb question; of course there wasn't.

This thinking was getting Mae nowhere. Feldman was visibly waiting for an answer.

"Maybe?" Mae said noncommittally. "Kinda? I dunno. It was just a thing I did. It isn't important. I just loved that game a lot, okay? But one day…" Mae paused and took in a deep breath. She hadn't really talked about this since that night on the couch.

"One day, I realized something. The game I played, with its stories and characters, was just a… thing. Everything was just things. Just stuff connected to other stuff. And I cried. I looked out the window, saw all the things and the shapes, and I just…"

"You dissociated?" Feldman asked, a hint of concern in his voice. Mae looked up at him.

"I guess?" She said. "That's the word my friend Bea used. So, yeah, I guess I disassociated the hell out of everything."

"Dissociated," Feldman corrected gently. Mae paid him no mind.

"Things sort of got better for the rest of the day," Mae said. "Like, it scared the shit out of me, but the next day I tried to convince myself it was some sort of dream. I did that 'cause our church was having this softball game, and I was playing and didn't wanna miss it."

Feldman nodded and wrote something down in his notes. "And that's when the incident happened?" He asked.

Mae nodded hurriedly. "Yeah. I got up to bat, and suddenly everything was just… wrong. The whole world was just colors and shapes. The kid I hurt, his name was Andy Cullen, and he was pitching for some bible camp in Briddle. I don't know why I went after him. Maybe just because he was right in front of me? But I got onto him, and I swung my bat down on him over and over, and…"

Shapes. Red shapes all over the grass. Mae shuddered.

"Dr. Hank said it was an anger problem," she sighed. "And he told me I needed to suppress it. I didn't tell him about how nothing was real. I was scared that, if I talked about it, it would happen again." A sad laugh escaped Mae. "Fat lot of good that did. It happened loads of times. It's why I dropped out of college."

"I don't know who this Dr. Hank is, but he sounds like a hack," Feldman said.

"Yeah, we used to call him Dr. Hack," Mae said. "He means well, but he's kind of an idiot. A big one."

Mae looked back down at her feet. She was kind of amazed at how she'd been able to say all of that. She felt like she was going to pass out, or cry, but it was still fairly impressive. Nice job, Mae. Way to say things to a guy sitting in a chair. Go team!

"Well, I'm glad you told me about this," Feldman said. "Dissociation is… well, it's not pleasant. But it's also not uncommon. If we can get to the root of the problem, Mae, we can help you learn to deal with this."

Deal with? Mae didn't want to deal with her problems. She wanted them to stop. Wasn't that what therapists were for?

"I mean, I'm better than I was," Mae said defensively. "I went through some stuff last year that kinda… I dunno, I guess it helped me out with some of my problems. Not all of them, though."

Mae sort of shrugged, her head still bowed down. Last year might have sorted some things out, but it had left Mae with a slew of secrets. Things she couldn't tell people. Things people were better off not knowing. Things like the sight of a man getting crushed under an elevator.

Actually, that had been kinda cool.

Dr. Feldman tapped his pen against his notepad, seemingly deep in thought. "Okay, Mae, the next time you come in here, I'm going to have a questionnaire for you."

Oh, god, Mae thought. Was he going to make her fill out a medical history thing? Mae hated those things. Mae hated filling things out. It made her feel like she was back in school, filling out worksheets for Mrs. Harlon's math class. God, that old lady had had it in for Mae. Just because Mae never did any work and was always talking to Casey.

Dr. Feldman, who was oblivious to Mae's train of thought, continued. "I suppose you could call it a mental health assessment. It should help us get a handle on what might have triggered your dissociative episode."

Mae blinked uncomprehendingly. She was already forgetting the name of… whatever it was that had happened to her. Disco something?

"I guess that's okay," Mae said. "Thanks, Bort."

Feldman looked up from his notepad in surprise. "Did you just call me Bort?" He asked.

Mae nodded. "Yeah. I know you wanted me to call you by your first name and junk. I feel like I've been kinda rude to you, so—"

"My name is Bart," the therapist said. "Bart. Not Bort."

Mae just frowned. "Oh, weird," she said. "Why did I think your name was Bort?"

* * *

The rest of the appointment carried on without much of note. Mae spent most of it describing other episodes she'd had in her life. It didn't feel good to remember those times. Sometimes, Mae wished she could just forget her time at college, or her episode in the mines.

That probably wasn't gonna happen, though, huh?

The long walk out of Feldman's office and to the waiting room gave Mae some time to reflect on things. Feldman had said that, depending on how she answered the questionnaire, Mae might need medication. For some reason, that made Mae feel guilty. Her parents were already spending money on these appointments; they shouldn't have to spend money on medicine, too.

The car ride home from Briddle was awkward. All of Mae's car rides had been kind of awkward, lately. Mae's mom had asked her about what Mae and Dr. Feldman had talked about. Mae told her. And then they spent the rest of the car ride listening to the radio.

Mae had woken up early for the appointment, so on the car ride home, Mae had planned on taking a nap. Waking up at two in the afternoon took a lot out of a girl, after all. But when they actually got home, Mae was surprised by the amount of energy she had.

Talking to Dr. Feldman had been really tiring, but now Mae suddenly felt all hyper. It was nothing new, of course. Mae often had random bouts of hyperactivity. She just hadn't felt this one coming.

Mae hugged her mom goodbye and sprinted off into town. It was amazing how different Possum Springs seemed when it wasn't early in the evening. Selmers wasn't on her stoop. Mr. Chazokov wasn't on his roof. Less people were out and about having conversations.

Old Man Varney was still sitting on his porch, but that was to be expected. Mae was pretty sure he was on disability or something; some bad accident at the old glass factory. Normally, Mae would have gone up onto his porch to bug him, but today she just wanted to explore the town.

When was the last time Mae had been out and about before four in the afternoon? January, maybe? Mae couldn't be sure. But the whole world seemed different, and Mae wanted to see more of it.

At first, Mae had planned on dropping by the Ol' Pickaxe. She wanted to talk to Bea about her appointment with Feldman. Aside from her parents, Bea was the person Mae probably talked to the most about her appointments. Bea had helped Mae's parents find Dr. Feldman, after all.

Mae's plan was ruined, however, when she reached the edge of Underhill and she literally bumped into one of the last people she wanted to see.

"Oh, jeez!" Said a friendly, familiar voice. The man Mae had bumped into turned around, and seemed to instantly recognize her. "Oh my god, is that you, Mae? I heard you were back in town! How are you?"

It was Sam. Casey's stepdad. He was probably one of the hugest guys in Possum Springs, built like a linebacker or some sort of mutant rhino person. Despite his size, though, Sam had always been one of the chillest, dorkiest guys in town. Mae had always thought that he was really cool.

He looked older. Everyone looked older after coming back from college. More than that, though, he looked… rougher. Sam had stubble now, which was something Mae didn't recognize. His eyes looked very, very tired. He had a big, cheery smile on his face, but even then, there was something incredibly sad about him.

Okay, how many people was this now? Cole, Andy Cullen, and now Casey's stepdad? Had Mae been cursed by some sort of awkward witch?

"Hey, Sam," Mae said. She offered a small, awkward wave to the older man. That was good and normal, right? Nothing about this said 'Hey, I know an awful truth about your missing son's fate'. "Been a while, huh?"

Sam laughed again, nodding. "Oh, yeah," he said. "Gosh, look at you! You look so adult now!"

That was a clear falsehood, but Mae didn't hold it against him. Sam was just trying to be friendly. He had always been like that. Mae guessed it was a stepdad thing. He tried too hard to get along with his stepson's friends.

"Yeah, I'm, like, 21 now," Mae said. "The last big adult milestone. It's all downhill from here."

Sam seemed to pout a little bit. "Hey, now," he said, "don't be like that! You've got a long life ahead of you! You're smart; you'll do something with your life."

Mae had only been joking. She hadn't been fishing for a pep talk. It hadn't been an especially good pep talk, either. Mae felt decidedly unpeppy.

Silence fell upon them for a moment. Thankfully, this awkward silence didn't last very long. Sam gave Mae a small, curt nod. "Well, I gotta go," he said. Mae returned the nod.

As she began walking away towards the Pickaxe, though, she heard Sam call out to her. "Hey, Mae," Sam said. "By any chance, have you heard from Casey?" When he spoke, he sounded hesitant. It was like he wasn't sure if there was any point to his question.

Mae froze. For a brief moment, she felt almost sick. She looked over her shoulder at Sam. He didn't look hopeful, despite the smile on his face. Mae quietly gathered the courage she needed to say what she had to say.

"No," Mae said slowly. "I haven't. Sorry. Like, the last time I heard from him was last spring."

Sam's expression grew subtly sadder, like a balloon slowly deflating. He gave a bittersweet smile and nodded. "I thought so," he said, sighing softly. "Thank you, Mae. It was good to see you."

"Yeah. You too," Mae lied. She turned forward and began to trudge on towards the Pickaxe.

* * *

The Pickaxe in the afternoon wasn't very different from the Pickaxe in the evening. There weren't any customers. There weren't any employees. There was just Bea, standing at the counter. She seemed noticeably surprised to see Mae walk in through the shop's door.

Mae felt herself relax a bit. In here, there were no sad stepdads or kids she'd assaulted. Just Bea and presumably whoever was working in the back. With a small smile, Mae walked up to the counter. When she reached Bea, she leaned against the countertop and rested on her arm.

"Look who's up and about," Bea said. Her tone was as dry as ever. Clearly, she'd gotten over her surprise.

"Yeah, I'm a real early bird," Mae said. "Look at me, getting shit done all day every day."

"No, seriously, why are you up so early?" Bea asked.

Mae frowned. Darn it. Somehow, Bea had seen through Mae's airtight lie. Nothing got past the Mom Friend.

"I mean, I had an appointment with Feldman," Mae said. "Went and talked to him about… stuff. Some stuff. Not all the stuff, obviously. Not enough time for all the stuff." Mae kind of shrugged. To anyone else, this might have sounded really vague.

To Bea, though? Well, she probably still thought it was really vague. But she at least seemed to get what Mae was saying. Though her expression didn't change much, Mae could tell that Bea was happy. And that made Mae happy.

Everyone was happy in the Ol' Pickaxe. Except for maybe whoever was working in the back.

Mae filled Bea in on as much as she could. Going over the appointment made Mae feel tired and her surprising burst of energy from earlier was quickly being depleted. Mostly, Mae wanted to put the appointment behind her.

When she was done, Mae let loose a soft sigh. Bea, who had started smoking a fresh cigarette, gave Mae a small, respectful nod. "Thanks for listening to what I said," Bea said. "I mean, you know. Thanks for trying to get better."

"Doesn't feel like I was trying too hard," Mae mumbled. "Feels like I'm just talking about stuff."

"Talking about stuff's the first step," Bea said. She took a drag of her cigarette and folded her arms on the counter. If any customers actually came in, they'd probably think that Bea was slacking off. "Like, I don't know what you expected, but therapy is mostly talking."

Mae had expected weird drugs and cool hypnosis. She didn't say this out loud, though. Bea would probably think it was stupid. And, yeah, Mae guessed it was kind of stupid. But Mae didn't have a lot of faith in her ability to talk her problems away. Mae felt like she needed extra help if she was going to beat this.

No. 'Beat' wasn't the right word. Mae had a feeling that, whatever she had, it was going to keep going until the day she died. It wasn't something she could beat. It was something she had to live with. And the thought of that, of always being afraid of another breakdown, was the most terrifying thing to Mae. It was scarier than any eldritch monster or cult of dads out there.

Mae let loose another sigh. She realized she'd been spacing out again for a few minutes. Bea looked mildly concerned. "Whatever," Mae muttered. "God, these last few days have been kinda garbage."

"How so?" Bea asked. She placed her cigarette back between her lips.

Mae threw her arms up in a helpless shrug. "Well, for starters, I ran into Casey's stepdad outside," she said.

Bea's eyes widened in surprise. "Oh, god," she said. Her tone was fairly apologetic. "What was that like?"

"Sad," Mae said. "Sad and awkward. Like, I remember him being a lot happier just a few years ago. Seeing him look so sad just feels kind of wrong, you know?"

Bea was kind of quiet for a bit. "Yeah. I know exactly what you mean," she said quietly. She took another, longer drag of her cigarette, and then let loose a sigh. Mae got the feeling that a change of topic was necessary.

"So, yeah. How's your day going?" Mae asked, trying her best to give a natural smile. She had a feeling it looked fake as hell, though. Way to go, Mae.

Bea, at least, didn't seem to mind Mae's fake-ass smile. She held her cigarette between her fingers as she thought. "Well, we're getting a lot of, like, tools and shit in this week," she explained. "Spring and summer are kinda busy. Everyone doing their little projects. Kind of a pain to unload everything."

"I could help," Mae said. The words had escaped before she even realized she'd said them. "I mean, like Germ helps you. Obviously, I'd wanna get paid more than him."

Bea stared at Mae skeptically. "Mae, I love you, and you're practically my sister," Bea said. Mae winced. Bea only said stuff like that when she was about to roast Mae completely and utterly. "But I absolutely do not trust you to handle anything in this shop. Like, not even the tourism brochures. I'm worried you'd choke on them."

Mae felt herself begin to pout. She crossed her arms over her chest and stared at Bea grumpily. "Fine, whatever," Mae said. "Have fun carrying a bunch of hammers and shit with your best friend Germ."

Bea was quiet for a second. She seemed to be slowly realizing something. "Actually," she said, "I haven't seen Germ since we went out for your birthday. I mean, I don't regularly hang out with him or anything, but I usually see him around."

That was definitely a little odd. Mae was starting to realize that she also hadn't seen Germ around. He hadn't been at their last band practice. He hadn't been out in the Food Donkey parking lot the last few times Mae had been there.

Mae felt like she should be more worried than she was. Germ was kind of enigmatic, though. It was hard to be concerned about him. The little guy had a quiet intensity that made it seem like he could handle himself. Plus, he had mace.

Well, Gregg had probably seen him. Gregg and Germ did a lot of hanging out. They were bike buddies. Mae made a mental note to ask Gregg about it the next time she saw him.

Then, she completely forgot about the mental note and started talking to Bea again.

"So, when's the next Jackie party?" Mae asked.

Bea placed her cigarette back between her lips. "Like, next week, I think?" Bea said. She looked off to the side, contemplating something, and then returned her attention to Mae. "Are you sure you wanna go? Your last party was kind of… not so great."

"Oh, Bea of little faith," Mae said, shaking her head. "You don't seem to understand. A cute girl is on the line. I need to go to this party. I gotta get Bombshell's info." Mae's eyes narrowed as she stared intently off into the distance. "I gotta, Bea."

That got a chuckle out of Bea. "Okay, okay, point made," she said. "Far be it from me to get in the way of you actually socializing with someone outside of your normal circle of friends. This time, though, try not to forget to get her number."

"If I forget a third time, I might actually die?" Mae said.

Bea laughed again, and that brought a smile to Mae's face. At least, it would have, if Mae wasn't losing all of her energy. She needed to take a couple of naps before she got up to any business with her friends.

As if it were triggered somehow by her having this thought, Mae let loose a powerful yawn. Bea snickered at that, and waved Mae off cheerfully.

"Okay, you," Bea said. "Get going. I'll talk to you later."

"Yeah," Mae muttered. "I'll see ya around, Beebee." With a nod, Mae turned towards the exit. Tired step after tired step, she walked out the door and into the early spring sun.

The streets were still fairly empty. A couple of hours until people started getting out of work or school. Off towards the side, though, by the old war memorial next to the Pickaxe, Mae thought she saw someone. They were mostly obscured by the brickwork, but the barest hint of their frame was visible at the corner.

Though she was tired, Mae's curiosity got the better of her. When she walked towards the memorial to get a better look, however, the figure darted in the opposite direction. Mae barely got a look at them as they ran off.

Okay, that wasn't suspicious or anything.

Mae didn't have the energy to chase after weirdos in the middle of the day. Besides, she'd probably just spooked them. Even with all the weird stuff going on lately, Mae didn't think every random person was a cultist, probably.

With a shrug, Mae turned and began walking homewards.


	17. Break

Three weeks.

Mae almost didn't believe it when Gregg gave her the news. She'd known the day was coming, of course, but actually hearing a definite date came as quite a shock. Things had settled into a comfortable routine, and part of Mae had thought that things in Possum Springs wouldn't change.

But no. The tiny world where Mae didn't have to think about her best friend moving away was shattered like a snow globe. Gregg had just gotten off of work, and they were up on the roof of his apartment building. Naturally, Gregg's news about the move was the first thing they talked about.

Mae couldn't do anything but chuckle. "I was wondering when you'd know for sure," she said. "I mean, you said you were moving in spring, and it'll be summer pretty soon."

"Life happens," Gregg said with a shrug. "But, yeah, we'll be able to move in three weeks. Just in time for swimsuit season!" Gregg paused. "Shit, I guess we'll actually have to go get swimsuits."

Mae nodded slowly. Not a lot of reasons to own a swimsuit in Deep Hollow County. The nearest place to go swimming was a pool in Hunwick, but that place was sketchy as hell. Mae remembered seeing a bunch of needles all over the place the last time she'd been there. They had probably been drug needles.

Wait, what drugs did you need a needle for? Was it weed? Did you have to inject the weed into yourself? Mae guessed she'd never know. She was definitely never, ever doing weed again. Probably.

"God," Mae said. "It's finally happening, huh?" She looked out at the horizon. Things were really pretty from up here. Gregg and Angus's apartment had a great view. Mae wondered who would move in when they left. Mae wondered if Gregg's next apartment would have a view this nice.

Then again, Gregg and Angus had lived on the second floor. Probably not as great a view as up on the roof.

"When you move to Bright Harbor, you should live on your building's roof," Mae said, apropos of nothing.

"What, like a penthouse?" Gregg asked. "We couldn't afford that. Unless you mean, like, you think we should pitch a tent up on a roof somewhere. I don't know if that'd be legal, though. Plus, the weather would probably suck."

Okay, that was fair. If it rained, they'd probably drown.

Mae crossed her arms and sighed. "You know what?" She asked. "I'm happy for you, dude. You and Angus. You earned this." A small, genuine smile crept across Mae's face. She felt bad that they were moving, but she couldn't find it in her to be upset with them. Not anymore, at least.

"We really did," Gregg said with a sigh. The former delinquent wandered to the building's edge and sat. "Between all the work we've done, and all the changes I've been making, we've totally earned a fresh start."

A bright smile formed on Gregg's face. His smiles were always so sincere. Everything about Gregg was sincere, Mae thought. That was part of why he ruled.

"I'm totally gonna message you every day," Mae said.

Gregg laughed at that. "Dude, you better," he said. "If you don't, I'll assume you died or something."

"Nah," Mae said. "Even if I was a ghost, I'd still message you every day."

Mae and Gregg sat in a comfortable silence as they watched the people walk around on the sidewalks below. From up here, Mae thought, everyone looked like characters in a video game. One of the old handheld ones, maybe, or a top-down RPG. There was something sad about that, but Mae wasn't sure what it was.

"Before we move," Gregg said, "I'm gonna be really boring. I wanna make sure I don't do anything stupid at the last minute and blow this for us." He sighed a bit. From the sounds of things, he didn't have a lot of confidence in himself. Mae could relate.

"Like I said before, you're all adult now," Mae said, trying to lift her friend's spirits. "I'm actually kinda jealous. Like, you're out there living your life and making things happen. Meanwhile, I'm sort of… stuck, I guess."

Gregg turned to face Mae, a sympathetic look on his face. "Dude, you'll get moving some day," he said. "I know you. When you want something, you make it happen. Trust me, Mae, you're gonna kick ass one of these days."

"I kick ass now," Mae said, chuckling a bit. "I kick all the asses, all the time."

Her laughter died down, however, and a sigh escaped her. "Seriously, though," Mae said, "I don't know if I could ever do what you're doing. I feel like I wasn't really prepared for being out in the real world. Like, I'm scared of being a real adult, dude? Right now I'm just a dumb 21-year-old, but every day I feel like I'm getting closer to the point where I'll have to grow up."

"It's not, like, a sudden thing, dude," Gregg said. "I mean, I still don't feel like I'm an adult. But I do adult things, so that counts for something, I guess?" Gregg offered an uncertain shrug. "It's all really complicated. They should've given us an instruction manual when we graduated."

Mae scoffed. "As if we'd actually read it."

The two friends laughed at that, and watched as the sky gradually grew darker and darker.

* * *

It had been Gregg's idea to go out to the woods when they were done looking out at the sky. Mae had hopped onto his bike, and they'd ridden out to the same woods where they'd had their knife fight last year.

Things looked pretty much the same, albeit much greener. The log was still broken, and that made Mae feel kind of proud. The fake forest god had been dismantled at some point, either by Gregg or some punk teens. The Northern Dumbfowl were still out on the lake. Mae guessed they'd just gotten back from flying south.

Okay, so maybe the woods didn't look the same. Woods in spring were completely different from woods in the fall. They were more alive, somehow.

"Nah, I haven't seen Germ, either," Gregg said as they sat on the edge of the lake. They hadn't made any stops on the way. The old glass factory loomed in the background.

"That's kinda weird," Mae muttered. "Should I be worried? Like, I'm not worried, but should I be?"

Gregg shrugged. "I dunno. Germ's kind of an enigma. He might be on vacation or something, and he just didn't tell anyone. Sounds like something he'd do."

The word 'vacation' flipped a switch in Mae's head. She suddenly remembered the conversation she'd had with Bea last year about the road trip. Bea hadn't said anything, so she must have forgotten, too. Either that, or she was budgeting it or something.

A road trip would be the perfect thing to get Mae's mind off of missing her buddies. Mae made a mental note to talk with Bea about it sometime later. Maybe on the way to the next Jackie party? Whenever they talked about it, it wasn't likely they'd head out west any time soon. The barbecue and giant pierogis could wait.

Gregg let loose a sigh. The lake in front of them was incredibly still. Mae had no idea if there were any fish in that lake. She didn't know a lot about fishing. Part of her wished her dad or granddad had been into it. Mae wouldn't have minded that.

"Part of me's really scared, you know?" Gregg said. "When we get to Bright Harbor, I don't know what'll happen. I don't know how things will change."

"Dude, I'd be scared if I were you," Mae said reassuringly. "You'd be crazy to not be scared. Either that or, like, impossibly chill."

That got a laugh out of Gregg. "Okay, good to know," he said. "I'm, like, the opposite of chill. Which I guess makes me hot?" A delighted smile formed on his face as this realization dawned on him.

Mae smirked and shrugged. "Eh," she said. "You're a four out of ten."

Gregg's smile turned into an upset little pout. Mae laughed at that. Gregg joined her. The two laughed for a while. They laughed until they heard a twig snap behind them.

Both of them were startled, but Mae was the one who spun around to find the source of the noise. She couldn't see anyone. Had it just been a rabbit? Or a sasquatch? Did they have those in Deep Hollow County? Mae felt like she would have heard if there were sasquatches here.

Just when Mae was about to dismiss it, she heard another twig snap. Her eyes turned toward the direction of the sound just in time to see a rustling in some nearby bushes. Without even thinking about it, Mae ran towards the bush. Gregg called out after her, clearly confused.

When Mae reached the bush, there was no one. Ahead of her, though, Mae could see some more bushes rustling. Whoever or whatever it had been, they were running off towards the glass factory. Mae chased after them.

Everything else was shut out. Mae didn't pay attention to anything except for the figure that she was chasing. She never got a good look at them; they were always just ahead of her, hidden among the branches and bushes. Mae was vaguely aware of Gregg following her, yelling at her to stop.

Mae couldn't stop, though. She'd been on edge lately. Her dreams of the mines had been occurring every night. To top that off, her suspicions towards Leon had colored her perception of the world around her. She was scared. There was no denying that. She was scared enough to chase blindly after someone she couldn't see.

Scared enough to chase after someone right into a ravine.

The edge of the ravine was obscured by bushes, but even then Mae managed to stop herself before she went tumbling over into the muddy ground below. The ravine ran adjacent to the glass factory, and was cluttered with trash. Broken glass, metal, and lots of things that would make you need a tetanus shot.

There was no one else in the ravine below.

Just as Mae came to this confusion realization, she became aware of someone running up behind her. At first, fear gripped her throat and brought a cold chill up her spine. However, Mae quickly deduced that it was Gregg, chasing after his friend.

Mae was just about to turn and call out to Gregg when she realized how quickly he was coming towards her. Before she could warn him about the ravine, he came barreling through the bush and into Mae. A confused gasp escaped him as his momentum carried them forward, and sent them tumbling into the ravine below.

As they rolled down the embankment, Mae was suddenly reminded of the tire and the hill. It had been a while ago, back at the start of spring, but it still stuck in Mae's mind. The difference was, that trip down a steep slope had been relatively safer.

This trip ended sooner, however. With a thud, the two hit bottom. Gregg hit the ground first, and Mae landed on him before rolling off into the mud. The whole world was spinning. Mae felt nauseous. Her entire body ached from the tumble she had taken. She would be fine, though.

Judging by the noises Gregg was making, however, he wouldn't be.

Mae and Gregg had been rough kids growing up. Mae was no stranger to the sounds of a scraped knee, or a twisted ankle. The only time she'd heard a noise like this, however, was back in middle school.

She, Gregg, and Casey had been out by the tracks. Gregg and Casey had been skateboarding, while Mae sat aside and watched. It was really boring. Or it had been, until Gregg had tried a very difficult trick and wound up breaking his arm.

Something similar seemed to have happened here. As Mae regained her senses, she saw Gregg's leg had gotten caught in a pile of metal and garbage. His ankle was twisted to the side, and his leg was bent at an unnatural angle. Gregg laid there, cries of frustration and pain escaping him as he tried to clutch at his leg.

It took Mae a second to find her words. She managed to open her mouth and say the only thing she could think of: "Oh, shit, dude."

Gregg gave a pained laugh as he brought his hands to his eyes. Despite the situation, there was a smile on his face. "Oh, man," he said. "Oh, god, I think it's effing broken. Is there bone showing?"

Mae hurried over to her friend's side. His leg was all wonky, but she couldn't tell how bad it was through his jeans. Slowly, she reached out and carefully pulled the leg of Gregg's pants up as much as she could. Evidently, she didn't do it carefully enough, because more gasps of pain filled the air.

With her vision unobscured, Mae looked at Gregg's leg. It looked nasty. There was a weird protrusion at his knee, like something was trying to get out. His skin, while bruised, was at least intact.

"No bones, dude," Mae said.

Gregg groaned. "Aw, shit," he said. "That's lame. I was hoping it'd at least look cool."

Mae nodded. A broken leg with bones popping out looked sick, and was something you could tell a story about later. But if there weren't any bones showing, it just looked kind of sad.

Mae's attention moved down the leg to Gregg's foot. She couldn't see how bad it was with his stupid rockabilly boot on. His ankle was torqued to the side, and pinned between a pair of rusty, metal rods. They looked like pieces of the frame of a bike. Tenderly, Mae reached out and tried to pull Gregg's foot free.

A groan of pain signaled to Mae that she needed to stop. She let go of Gregg's ankle for a moment and then tried again. And again. And again. Each attempt was met with pained protest from Gregg. Nevertheless, Mae kept trying until Gregg finally yelled at her to stop.

Mae fell on her butt, sitting in the mud and staring at Gregg's leg. All in all, it wasn't as bad as it could have been. With the way he had gotten stuck, his leg could have, like, gotten snapped clean off. That was something that could happen to legs, right? Probably.

Gregg had stopped crying out now, and was instead just lying on the ground, panting. All of that screaming had taken it out of him. He winced a bit in pain. His position, and the position of his leg, made it impossible for him to relax.

"Oh, god," Mae muttered. Seeing her friend laying there, his leg twisted like a pretzel, sent a wave of guilt over her. "Oh, god, I'm so sorry, Gregg. I-I heard a dude, and chased after him, and—"

"Dude," Gregg snapped. His tone took Mae by surprise. She'd never heard Gregg talk like that. He must have been in a lot of pain, with a lot of things going through his head. Despite his tone, though, he didn't look angry. Just disappointed.

"Dude," he repeated. "God, dude, stop. I ran after you. It's not your fault. Stop effing apologizing and get help!"

Get help? That was easier said than done. Mae stood and looked around her. Where could she possibly go to get help? It would take a while to get back into town, especially since Mae couldn't ride Gregg's bike. Did anyone live in these woods? Anyone with a phone?

Mae stopped as she realized that there was one option that was very close to them. She turned her attention towards the old glass factory that stood next to the ravine. The big skeleton that overlooked the town.

Surely there wouldn't be anyone in there. But it was the closest option, and Mae had to at least look. The factory was spooky, sure, but she had to get help for Gregg. If she didn't he'd probably die from having a broken leg or something.

"Okay," Mae muttered. She looked back to Gregg, who was wincing from the pain. "Okay, I'm going to look for help. Stay here."

Gregg blinked, and stared at Mae incredulously. "Dude, seriously?"

Despite the situation, Mae felt embarrassed. "Okay. Yeah. Dumb advice."

With that, she turned and sprinted towards the factory's entrance.

* * *

Normally, abandoned factories are inhabited only by wild animals, homeless people, and photographers taking pictures for their blogs. Mae didn't know anyone who would willingly hang out in a place like this. Well, maybe Germ, but he would probably hang out anywhere.

As Mae stepped into the building, she was struck by how grey everything was. Dust covered almost every square inch of the place. Even the light that filtered in through the windows had a strange, gray quality to it. For some reason, the whole place felt hopeless.

Mae made her way past the receptionist area, and soon found herself in the factory proper. The whole place felt weird to her. Mae could vaguely remember coming here once before, back when she was around four. She had been with her mom, and they had arrived to drop something up for her dad.

Back then, the factory had seemed so much bigger, and much livelier. There had been more colors, instead of just the color of the graffiti on the walls and floor.

While Mae navigated around the trash and broken glass on the floor, she became aware of a noise some distance ahead. It sounded like a hammer hitting something. A wall, maybe? Was someone working on something in here?

Mae began to make her way towards the sound. As it grew louder, she began to hear music playing softly. It was the unmistakable sound of butt rock. Whoever was hammering away at the wall had shitty taste in music.

The old, broken down machines obscured Mae's view, but she knew she was getting closer when the smell of glue filled the air. She hadn't smelled it out at the front of the factory, but here it was particularly powerful. Mae assumed that someone was doing some sort of secret project.

And, well, she was kind of right.

When Mae turned the corner around the machine, she saw two people. A great feeling of relief came over her, but it was swiftly crushed. She recognized both of these people, and had a feeling they wouldn't be of much help.

One of them was leaning against a machine, stoned out of his mind. There were only a couple of people Mae knew who would do drugs in an abandoned glass factory, so Mae easily deduced that this person was Levy. She also figured this out by, you know, looking at his face.

From the looks and smells of things, Levy had been sniffing glue. His eyes were glazed over, and a dopey grin was spread on his face. There was something kind of scary about seeing him like this. Like the factory, he seemed vaguely hopeless.

It was the other person, though, that really brought Mae's spirits down. He was hammering away at the wall, apparently trying to make a hole in the plaster. Mae could see pipes and wires, but evidently this wasn't what he was looking for. He had a pair of earbuds on, but the music he was listening to was so loud that Mae could hear it anyway.

And, when she saw this man hammering away, she said the only thing she could think of. She said his name.

"Effin Steve Scriggins," she growled angrily.

Steve seemed to be too busy listening to his music, so he didn't hear Mae.

"Effing Steve Scriggins!" She said, louder this time.

Steve cast a glance in Mae's direction. At first, he seemed confused to see her. Soon, though, a cruel smirk appeared on his face. Steve reached a hand into his pocket, and soon the music blaring from his earbuds shut off. He removed those earbuds, dropped his hammer, and dusted his hands off.

"What the hell are you even doing here?" Mae asked.

"I gotta have a reason?" Steve asked. Mae noticed a small pile of copper pipes neck to his feet. Even Mae, who didn't know whales weren't fish and couldn't even name all of the country's states, knew that copper was worth something. She also knew that Steve probably didn't have permission to yank those pipes out of the wall.

Whatever. Beggars can't be choosers. Mae would have to put aside her hatred for Steve if she wanted to get help for Gregg.

"Look, I don't have time for you to play your asshole card," Mae said. "I need help. Gregg's leg is broken and he's got it stuck in a buncha shit."

To Mae's disgust, Steve gave an amused little scoff. He stood up to face Mae and folded his arms over his chest. "So?" Steve asked. "Ain't my fault he got his leg effed up. I don't gotta do nothin' for him."

"You're a wonderful human being, Steve," Mae grumbled.

Steve just laughed at that. His dumb, annoying laugh. Mae didn't know why Gregg considered himself parking lot trash when Steve was around. Steven Effing Scriggins was a prime example of trash. He was a pile of trash that had been given life by a trash witch.

Mae glanced back over to Levy, hoping he'd in some way be helpful. The dazed way he stared back at her told Mae that wasn't very likely. He moved and stuffed his hands in his pockets.

"Hey, would you get outta here?" Steve asked sharply. "Levy and me are in the middle of very important work. Go find someone else to help your girlfriend."

"I can never tell if you're being homophobic or sexist," Mae said. "It's like you're a constant mix of the two."

That turned Steve's smile upside-down. He rolled his eyes and made a sort of annoyed grunting sound. "God, you never stop with that shit, do you? Go jump in the ravine, Borowski."

"Go jump off a cliff, Scriggins," Mae snapped.

The two stood thee, glaring daggers at each other for a while. Mae wasn't leaving until she got some help. Steve probably had a car, right? Or, like, a really big bike, maybe? He was bound to have one of those two things.

The problem was that Steve was too big of a monster's ass to give them a ride in his car and/or giant bike. Appealing to his basic human decency wouldn't help. Instead, Mae thought, maybe she could strike some sort of deal? Gregg had made a deal with Steve last year. But what did Mae have to bargain with?

"Okay, look," Mae said, struggling to think of something to offer, "if you help me get Gregg to a doctor, I'll take you to the sewers and show you a really cool possum."

Steve's anger dissipated, giving way to sheer confusion. He didn't seem to know what to say. "What?" He asked. "Why would anybody want that?"

Okay, that plan was never going to work. It felt weird to use Rabies as a bargaining chip, anyway. Mae felt like she'd have to at least ask Germ for permission to do that. Besides, Scriggins would be a bad influence on little Rabies.

"Well, then, what do you want?" Mae asked desperately. "Please, he needs help. His leg's really bad."

Steve seemed to consider Mae's question for a bit. Much to Mae's horror, a wicked smile started to spread on the lowlife's face. He chuckled again, and began fishing around in his pockets for something.

"Okay," Scriggins said. "I'll help you out. But you gotta get somethin' for me."

Mae was suddenly considering just carrying Gregg back into town. There was something about Steve's tone that she didn't like. Mae had a feeling that, whatever he was about to ask for, it wouldn't be good.

"What do you want?" Mae asked slowly.

Steve's grin widened. "You were friends with Hartley, right?" Mae felt her heart leap in her chest. Had Steve even known Casey? Mae didn't think they'd had any classes together. Or had they gotten to know each other while Mae was off at college? The idea of Casey willingly associating with Scriggins filled Mae with a weird, sick feeling.

Nevertheless, she nodded in response to Steve's question.

"Okay," Steve said. "Then his folks'll let ya into his house, right? There's something I want, and it's in his room. Under the floorboards."

Mae instantly knew what Steve was talking about. Mae could remember the loose floorboards in Casey's room. She'd thought it was so cool that he had his own little hiding space like that. He'd kept all sorts of things under there. Mostly porn. Did Steve want porn? He could get porn for free online.

"Get your own porn," Mae said. Steve just laughed.

"Like I need any," he said. "I don't want any of his lame-ass magazines, Borowski. I want some of the shit he cooked up with his cousin. He should have some left, if he didn't sell all of it to Levy."

Levy suddenly sat up and took notice of the situation. He still looked out of it, but hearing his name seemed to have at least gotten his attention. Mae saw that he was holding his phone, fiddling around with it absent-mindedly. Mae was actually kind of surprised that Levy even had a phone. Not much call for one in a town with no reception.

Mae looked back at Steve, who was staring at her with an expectant look on his face. Mae guessed this settled whether or not Casey had been working with his cousin after all. Mae didn't like the idea of Casey being involved in actual criminal activities, but she was sure he'd had his reasons. And anyway, it didn't matter now.

"Fine," Mae grumbled. Before Gregg could chuckle again, she held up a hand. "Just help me get Gregg out of the ravine and into your car."

"Truck," Steve said. "It's a truck."

Mae rolled her eyes and gave an exhausted groan. "Fine. Okay. Whatever. Help me get Gregg into your truck, then."

"Look, don't get an attitude with me," Steve said. "You're the one who called my truck a car."

Mae threw her hands up in the air. Every conversation with Steve Scriggins was a literal nightmare. Mae suspected that the only reason Levy ever put up with Steve was because he was high out of his mind most of the time. The two of them weren't friends, so Mae had to assume the only reason they hung out was because of Crime.

"Okay, we literally do not have time for this," Mae said. "I left my best friend in a ravine with his leg twisted the eff up. If we don't get him to the hospital, he'll probably try and chew his leg off to escape."

For a moment, Steve actually looked kind of impressed. "Cool," he said. "Would he really do that?"

Mae was about to snap at Steve when Levy suddenly spoke up. "Hey, Mae," he said. Levy and Steve both looked at him in surprise. He'd been silent the whole time, so actually hearing his voice was kind of alarming.

"Yeah. Hi." Mae said, a tone of impatience in her voice. She didn't dislike Levy, but she couldn't put up with his druggy shenanigans right now. He still had his phone out in his lap, but he was no longer fiddling with the screen. Mae turned her attention back to Steve.

"Alright, come on," Mae said. She turned and began walking back to where she'd come in from. She made it a few feet before she realized Steve wasn't following her. Mae turned and saw the hoodlum standing there with his arms folded over his chest.

"What the effing hell, Steve?!" Mae practically screamed. Steve just snickered.

"I ain't goin' nowhere 'till I know you'll keep your end of the deal," he said. "See, Borowski, I don't really trust you. Your aunt's been on my ass plenty of times in the past. I need some guarantee you won't rat me out to her."

Mae was too panicked to let the mention of Aunt Molly get to her. Her only thoughts were of Gregg and his weird, weird leg. "My aunt's been missing for months!" Mae snapped. "I couldn't sell you out even if I wanted to! You'll get your shit, okay?"

Once again, Steve surprised absolutely no one by acting like a douche. Instead of following after Mae, he just laughed. "Oh, shit. Missing? Really? Sick." The smile on his face absolutely disgusted Mae. "Prob'ly got shot up by some hick up in the hills."

Mae almost couldn't process the sheer outrage she felt. Her hands clenched into fists as she stared down the Smirking Scriggins. Mae and Aunt Molly'd had a rough relationship, sure; and yeah, evidence pointed to her being in that cult. But even if Mae didn't like Aunt Molly, she'd loved her. She had been family.

And here was Steve, asshole of the century, joking about her getting shot. No matter how much Gregg needed help, Mae couldn't let that shit slide.

"You know what?" Mae asked. "Eff you, Scriggins. I'd rather carry Gregg into town myself than owe you anything. And I know he'd agree with me." Mae considered her words for a moment. "I don't mean he'd carry himself into town. I mean he'd agree you're a huge dick."

Steve opened his mouth to say something that would probably be either stupid or offensive. A noise cut him off, though. At first, Mae didn't recognize the sound. It wasn't a noise she'd been expecting to hear, after all. But when it sounded off again, she instantly knew what it was.

A car's horn.

Steve's anger at Mae was temporarily put aside in favor of confusion. He was looking past Mae, in the direction the noise had come from. A puzzled frown had replaced his scowl. "Who the hell's that?" Steve asked. "What's someone doin' out here?"

Mae almost pointed out that Steve was out here, but decided against it. She instead turned in surprise to see Levy standing up. His legs were shaky, and he was barely holding onto his phone. The local burnout reached his arm up and wiped his nose off on his hoodie's sleeve.

"'S Beth," Levy said. "I emailed her 'bout Gregg. She doesn't live far from here."

"You emailed Beth?" Mae asked, shocked. Levy nodded slowly in response, and held up his phone. That took Mae by surprise. She hadn't thought the WiFi beams would be able to reach out here. Didn't WiFi need towers? Probably. Mae wasn't an expert.

"Smooth move, jackass." Steve snapped. "I was makin' a deal to get you some more of that shit Casey made."

Levy blinked a few times. It seemed that he'd spaced out during that part of Mae and Steve's conversation. His blank, burnt out expression turned into a heavy frown. He looked like a kid who'd been told they weren't getting what they wanted for Longest Night. Mae almost felt bad for him. Almost.

She didn't have time to stick around and sympathize, though. Mae was already running out to get Gregg.

* * *

Possum Springs didn't have its own hospital. If you wanted medical attention from someone other than Dr. Hank the Hack, you had to make the ten to fifteen minute drive out to Briddle. Once you did that, you could meet with doctors who hadn't gotten their degrees off of sketchy Russian websites.

Beth had been more than helpful in freeing Gregg and getting him into her car. Mae could have kissed her for that. Beth Holstead was now her new hero. All hail Holstead. May she never OD or get hooked on meth.

They'd only made it so far before Gregg and Mae were separated. A couple of nurses had gotten Gregg onto a stretcher and rushed him into the ER. Mae had tried to follow, but another nurse had told her that only family members were allowed any further. Mae tried to insist she was Gregg's twin, but somehow that plan hadn't worked.

Mae had been sitting in the waiting area for maybe a half an hour when Angus burst in. He looked more panicked than Mae had ever seen him. The typically quiet, reserved man was sprinting towards the front desk, panting and wheezing when he came to a stop. Mae hopped out of her seat and hurried towards him.

He'd been Gregg's emergency contact, of course. Mae wasn't surprised. On top of being his boyfriend, Angus was just responsible in general. Mae was almost considering making him her emergency contact, too.

The nurse explained to Angus that the doctors were still tending to Gregg's leg, and that he'd be able to see him as soon as they were done. Angus seemed to calm down a little, but Mae could tell that the big guy was freaking out. She offered a reassuring pat on the shoulder as they walked back to take a seat.

It took Mae a few minutes to explain everything to Angus. She probably could have summarized it, but Mae instead chose to mention Steve and Levy and drag the story on forever. Angus didn't seem annoyed. He just seemed tired. Scared. Mae felt the same way.

"This is all my fault," Mae said when she was done. She looked down at her hands. To her surprise, Angus returned the pat on the shoulder. Mae looked up to see the big guy had a sympathetic frown on his face.

"Mae, Gregg chose to run after you," Angus said. "I would have done the same thing. If anyone's at fault, it's Gregg for not looking where he was going." There was a hint of anger in his voice, but Mae could tell that it was anger borne of worry.

More than that, though, Mae was kind of astounded that Angus was trying to comfort her while the man he loved lay in a hospital with a broken leg. Of course, Mae didn't know how serious this would turn out to be for Gregg and Angus. But she still couldn't believe Angus was able to worry about her at a time like this.

Angus was extremely good.

Mae wasn't sure how much time passed before a doctor came into the waiting room. He was a really serious-looking guy. Mae felt like he was probably the dad of someone she went to school with. She vaguely remembered seeing him at a career day back in grade school.

The doctor ushered Mae over, and Angus followed suit. The doctor didn't look terribly concerned. That was probably a good sign, right? Either that, or he just didn't care about Gregg. Mae, being as rational as she was, instantly assumed the latter was the case.

"Well," the doctor said. "The good news is, it isn't as bad as it looks. He isn't going to need any surgery."

Mae heard Angus let loose a sigh of relief. The big guy looked a lot less worried. Instead of terrified, he looked merely anxious.

"We've got his leg in a cast," the doctor continued. "He'll likely need to keep it on for around six weeks. He should be fine to go home, though."

"You're not going to, like, keep him overnight?" Mae asked. "His leg was all crooked and shit."

The doctor shook his head in a way that made Mae feel self-conscious. Had that been a dumb question? Mae didn't know a whole lot about broken legs, or hospitals, or doctors. Nobody did. Anyone who pretended to know something about hospitals and how they treated broken legs was a lair.

So, just to clarify, nobody knows how doctors work on broken legs. It's a mystery.

"Like I said, there's no need to perform surgery," the doctor said. "It's some mild angulation around the knee, as well as a mild sprain to the ankle. There's no reason for us to keep him here."

"Thank you," Angus said. He reached out and grabbed the doctor's hand, shaking it firmly. The doctor seemed unperturbed by this. He just kinda nodded. Mae respected that.

* * *

A nurse who looked like someone's creepy aunt wheeled Gregg out to the front of the building, where Angus was waiting with Bea's car. With the aid of a pair of crutches he had been provided, Gregg got out of the chair and hobbled into the backseat of the car.

The drive back to Possum Springs was tense and quiet. Neither Gregg nor Angus seemed to have anything to say. Mae could feel herself practically drowning in the awkward silence.

Gregg had his leg stretched out along the backseat. Thankfully, Gregg was kind of short. Even though Bea's car wasn't super big, he still had room for his cast.

Mae hadn't liked seeing the cast. Something about Gregg's big, new mummy leg made her feel weird. Was it guilt? Or was it just the fact that something about Gregg had changed? The addition of the cast made him seem different. Mae's sense of familiarity was thrown out of whack.

After five minutes of driving in silence, Mae couldn't take it anymore.

"I'm sorry," she said quickly. She felt awful about this whole mess. Even though Angus had said it wasn't her fault, part of Mae knew that he was just trying to make her feel better. He had every right to blame her for Gregg's accident. She'd gone running after something she'd thought she'd heard, and Gregg had gotten hurt because of it.

Nice job, Borowski. A+ Friendship right there.

Neither of them responded right away. Mae could hear the gears turning in their heads. Both of them were wondering whether they should say it was okay, or that it wasn't her fault. Mae wasn't sure she'd believe either answer.

"It's not your fault," Gregg said. Mae looked over into the backseat. To her surprise, Gregg looked fairly guilty himself.

"I was dumb," Gregg said. "I went running after you. I didn't stop myself." A laugh escaped him. It was a sad, bitter bark of a laugh. "God, some adult I'm turning out to be. I keep talking about how I'm done doing stupid shit, and then something like this happens."

"Bug, stop," Angus said firmly. From the sound of his voice, he wasn't done worrying about Gregg. "You were worried about her. It's in the past. Just… don't beat yourself up. Okay? We'll work this out."

Mae didn't understand what Angus meant like that. Even though they were all around the same age, Gregg and Angus lived in a different world. A world of medical bills and rent payments, where they had to think of stuff like insurance and loans.

It was probably a good thing Mae didn't live in that world. If she did, she'd feel even more guilty.

The atmosphere turned quiet again. There were a lot of unspoken emotions inside of that tiny sedan. Guilt, fear, anger, sadness, hopelessness; nothing good, to say the very least.

Later, of course, Gregg and Angus would talk and clear the air. Bright Harbor would have to be put on hold for the time being, and they'd deal with that. They would make peace with it.

For now, though, there was just the long car ride home, and the silence it carried with it.


	18. Mae Strikes Out

A few days had passed since the incident in the ravine, and Bea had had to convince Mae to come along to the party being held by Jackie.

Bea had said that Mae needed to get out of the house, and it was true. After Gregg's accident, Mae had spent two days straight in bed, more or less. She'd talked with her friends on Chattrbox, but aside from that, Mae was a shut-in. Bea had been genuinely worried.

Mae had been reluctant, but Bea could be persuasive. It wasn't easy, though. Even the possibility of getting Bombshell's number barely moved Mae from bed. But when Bea told Mae how worried everyone was, Mae finally agreed.

The drive to the club was longer than normal. A traffic accident had forced Bea to slow down for a good ten minutes, and congested traffic had eaten up even more time. Why was there so much traffic this late? Mae had no clue. Cars were a mystery she had no desire to unravel.

Mae spent most of those ten minutes looking at the wreck. Two cars had crashed into the railing on the side of the road. Two black cars, crunched together like soda cans. Mae wondered if anyone had gotten hurt. Maybe the drivers had broken their legs, and now they had to dip into their savings to pay for medical treatment.

Mae shook her head, trying to clear her mind. It wasn't doing her any good to get hung up on Gregg's leg.

She couldn't help it, though. Mae couldn't help but feel guilty about everything all the time forever. She was the guilt queen; she was a walking traffic accident. Who had two thumbs and messed everything up? Mae Borowski.

"Why are you pointing at yourself?" Bea asked.

Her voice snapped Mae back to reality. She looked down to see she was pointing at herself with both thumbs. Sheepishly, she tucked those bad boys away and lowered her hands back to her sides.

"I was, uh," Mae began. "I was… giving your driving a thumbs up. Because you're so good at it." Nailed it.

"Uh-huh," Bea said, not buying it in the slightest. Her focus returned to the road in front of her, and the long line of cars that occupied it. An annoyed sigh escaped her. Mae was betting that Bea wished she had a cigarette right now.

Mae hated traffic. It wasn't a problem in Possum Springs, but they were on a road that led to a big college town. Traffic probably happened all of the time. And, when traffic happened, you couldn't do much but listen to music or be alone with your thoughts.

Since Bea's radio was busted, that left Mae with only one option. Worst of all, it was the option that sucked the most.

And Mae couldn't help but go over all of her problems on the way to the Jackie Party.

* * *

The club was fairly packed when Mae and Bea finally arrived. Jackie led them down the steps and into the Party Basement. The dance club remix of this year's popular summer jam filled the place, its noise bouncing off of the concrete walls and floors.

Jackie had been predictably cold to Mae. That kind of stung. Even though Mae had been on her best behavior at the last party, it seemed like Jackie still hated her. That probably wasn't going to change any time soon.

Mae kind of hated herself, though, so at least Jackie wasn't alone.

On the way into the club, Mae had halfheartedly scanned the parking lot for any sign of Bombshell's car. She hadn't seen the assortment of bumper stickers she remembered from the previous month. She saw a couple of goth dorks who didn't seem happy to see her, but aside from that? Nothing.

And now, Mae, Bea, and Jackie stood at the edge of the dancefloor. Mae scanned the faces in the club to see if she could spot the Bombshell. Bea said something. Jackie said something else. They both continued saying things.

The club was particularly crowded. Mae couldn't make out every face clearly. The dim lighting didn't help. Mae continued her search for a good twenty seconds before she got bored and gave up. Gradually, she tuned back into Mae and Jackie's conversation.

"… I mean, he was hot as hell, but he vaped, so that was a deal-breaker," Jackie said. "God, I have the worst luck with guys, you know?"

"You do a lot better than me," Bea said consolingly.

"Yeah, me too!" Mae chimed in. She didn't actually know anything about Jackie's dating history. She knew Casey had had a crush on her, but other than that, Jackie's love life was a mystery.

Jackie seemed a little caught off-guard by Mae's contribution to the conversation. It didn't seem like it was a pleasant surprise, either. Jackie had probably assumed that Mae was completely spaced out. It was a safe assumption to make, Mae thought.

"If you say so," Jackie said. She turned her attention out towards the dancefloor, sighing a bit. "Ugh. This place has been so crowded lately. Too many people are out of college because of all the scorpions."

Mae nodded sagely. "Yeah, I think I heard something about that."

Jackie didn't respond.

"We don't have to dance," Bea pointed out. "We can just go hang out at the bar."

Jackie stood up on her tiptoes, peering out over the dancefloor. She shook her head sadly after a few moments of searching. "The bar's at the other end of the dancefloor. We'd never make it there without getting crushed or grinded on."

Mae attempted to follow Jackie's example by standing on her tiptoes. Being much shorter than Jackie, however, it didn't accomplish much. Mae grumbled irritably as she lowered herself back down.

"Is she even here?" Mae muttered to herself.

"Don't see her?" Bea questioned. Even with the pounding music and the dozen conversations, she'd somehow heard Mae. Mae was starting to realize that, when she tried to be quiet, she usually failed.

"No," Mae said, disappointed. "God, if she isn't here, this is such a bust."

"Is that the only reason you come to these parties?" Jackie asked. Mae looked over to see that the young radical was glancing at her, one pierced eyebrow quirked. "So you can find this mystery girl of yours?"

Mae shrugged. "I come so I can hang out with Bea," she said. "I mean, tonight I came because I wanted to forget about how my friend broke his leg because of me. And now he has to spend his savings on medical stuff. Also, I think someone might be stalking me, but that's not really related to the party."

"Super," Jackie said. "Glad I asked."

For some reason, that sarcastic comment was what broke the camel's back. Mae respected Jackie. Jackie was tough as hell. But Mae could only take so much disrespect. After a moment of consideration, Mae finally spoke.

"What's your problem?"

Even with all of the noise in the club, there was an almost deathly silence. Jackie looked as if she couldn't believe what Mae had just said. Mae didn't know why she was so shocked; it was a simple question. Mae looked to Bea, hoping for some backup, but Bea looked as shocked as Jackie.

"Mae?" Bea said. "Maybe we should—"

"No, I really wanna know!" Mae said. She looked back at Jackie, who now looked more angry than surprised. "Like, I know I'm not the most considerate person, but what did I ever do? Like, to you, specifically?"

"Oh, god," Bea whispered. Mae looked over to see her best friend was holding her palms to her face. It was dawning on Mae that this might not have been a great idea.

"Did you seriously just ask me that?" Jackie asked. She sounded borderline shocked. "Did you forget all the shit you pulled back in school? Oh my god, where should I even start? Back in elementary school, you'd constantly eat my pudding without asking me."

Mae blinked. She vaguely remembered eating a lot of pudding back in elementary school. Had it all been Jackie's? No, Mae was pretty sure it had been someone else. Jackie was probably mistaken.

"Then," Jackie said. She was beginning to get into this, picking up steam. "Then, in middle school, you poured a bottle of glue into my pencil case one day."

Okay, yeah, Mae did remember doing that. "I was helping you out!" Mae retorted. "I was combining your scrawny, weak pencils into one big super pencil!"

"You didn't combine anything!" Jackie snapped. "You just ruined a bunch of good pencils! I had a test that day, and I couldn't take it because of your glue bullshit! That wasn't even the last time you did something stupid to me with glue!"

God, Mae really had gone through a lot of glue back in middle school. She opened her mouth to reply, but the look she was getting from Jackie told Mae that it was probably smart to stay quiet.

"I could go on," Jackie said. "I could keep going. You did a lot of stupid shit, Borowski. Not just to me. Half the people who went to our school couldn't stand you. But you know what the worst thing you did to me was? Do you know why I think you're such an asshole?"

Jackie was quiet for a moment, collecting herself. She was positively seething. Mae actually felt a little scared.

"You called me the wrong name," Jackie said.

Mae didn't know how to respond to that. She looked over at Bea, who looked a bit sheepish. Bea noticed Mae's helplessness, thankfully, and soon came to Mae's defense.

"Jackie, we talked about this," Bea said. "Mae didn't mean to—"

"No," Jackie said, holding up a hand. "Okay? No. Bea, I love you, and I get that you're friends with Mae. Okay? I understand you see past her stupid bullshit. That's fine. I don't understand it, but it's fine. But I'm not letting her off easy for this. She didn't get my name wrong just once. She kept getting it wrong through most of high school."

"That's seriously it?" Mae asked, disbelieving. Jackie shot her a dirty look, but Mae kept going. "You're pissed because I kept getting your name wrong? Why? What did I call you? Jenny? Georgia? Did I somehow call you something really racist? What?"

"Oh my god, you complete asshole," Jackie said. She closed her eyes, collecting herself. "If you and Bea weren't friends, I would punch you into next week, I swear to god."

Jackie closed her eyes and took a deep breath in, and out. When she opened her eyes, she was still angry. Her expression seemed calmer, however. "You kept calling me by my dead name."

Mae was even more confused now. "Dead name?" She repeated. "What? That sounds really cool. Why—"

"She means you called her by her old name," Bea clarified. "From before she transitioned."

Oh. Mae suddenly began to understand. Despite how cool 'dead name' sounded, it turned out it was actually not a great thing to call someone. "Holy shit," she said. "Did I really do that?"

"I corrected you almost every time," Jackie continued. "I could understand if you made the mistake once or twice. I really could. But you kept using the wrong name, almost all through high school. You only stopped by the end of senior year."

Mae almost didn't know what to say. She was at a position in life where she couldn't really understand how using Jackie's old name might upset her. Mae was at least informed enough to know that it shouldn't be done, though. But had Mae really gotten Jackie's name wrong that much?

"Jackie, I'm so sorry," Mae said. "I mean, I'm a huge idiot. We all know that. Me being an idiot is the only explanation I have."

Jackie's expression softened a little. She was still clearly upset, but she at least didn't look like she was going to punch Mae's lights out. That was good enough for Mae.

"I kind of got that," Jackie sighed. "I knew you weren't trying to be a dick. But that doesn't make it okay, especially after all the times I corrected you." She paused. "Also, I mean, there's a ton of other shit you did. But the name thing was actually genuinely upsetting."

Mae just nodded. She didn't feel like she should try and defend herself on this one. Sometimes, Mae thought, you had to take a step back and acknowledge that you effed up.

"Well, thanks for letting me know," Mae said. "And, again, sorry. I know that doesn't really make it better, but, you know. Yeah."

Jackie shook her head a bit, her arms folded over her chest. "Whatever," she said. "Do you guys want to try and make your way to the bar?"

The dancefloor was no less crowded, but the answer was a unanimous yes. None of them wanted to continue just standing around, awkwardly apologizing to each other. Jackie led the group into the writhing, grinding mass of dancing dorks.

There was a lot of pushing, a lot of shoving, and more than a few 'excuse me's. Mae kept getting jabbed in the face by people's elbows. Either people were too distracted to notice her, or she was too short. Mae hoped it was the former, but realized it was probably the latter.

Eventually, like a beautiful dolphin breaching the ocean, Mae emerged at the other end of the dancefloor. She felt as if she'd just gotten done dancing all night, herself. Mae placed her hands on her knees, bracing herself, and tried to gather her breath.

"Hey, you."

The familiar voice pretty much threw whatever plans Mae had to regain her composure out the window. Mae hadn't heard the voice in about a month, but she still recognized it. Slowly, Mae stood up and found herself looking into the cool, cool eyes of Bombshell.

Mae laughed. She suddenly felt embarrassed, though she wasn't sure why. She lifted up her hand and waved at her crush, who was standing a few feet away at the bar. Then, Mae realized that waving was kind of dorky, so she stopped. She walked over to Bombshell, smiling as she did so.

When Mae got to the bar, she tried to think of something cool to say. Something really hot and flirty, but also cool and funny?

"Hey, how's it going?" Mae asked. She started waving again, despite being right next to Bombshell. Mae quickly put a stop to that waving nonsense.

"Oh, same old, same old," Bombshell chuckled. She held a red, plastic cup filled with some unidentifiable liquid. In the dim lights of a club, all drinks looked the same. Especially if they were in red, plastic cups.

"I don't know what that means, since we only see each other, like, once a month," Mae joked.

"Barely once a month," Bombshell pointed out, smiling her amused smile. "We should really do something about that."

Mae laughed. Well, she tried to laugh. The noise that came out was more of a nervous bark. Mae casually glanced over at the dancefloor. Bea and Jackie still hadn't navigated their way through the dancing dorks.

"You actually kind of caught me at a bad time," Bombshell said suddenly. Mae snapped back to the current conversation. Bombshell was still smiling, but she'd set her drink down. "See, I've got to get going, like, right now. They need my help with the scorpions."

Okay, that made sense and wasn't a weird thing to say.

Mae almost opened her mouth to say 'bye', but she caught herself. She wasn't going to forget to get Bombshell's info a third time.

"So, do you use Chattrbox?" Mae asked.

Bombshell looked up at Mae, chuckling a bit. "Depends. Are you asking for my info, Borrrrowski?" She practically purred Mae's name, sending shivers down her spine.

"Uh, yeah," Mae said. "I mean, I think I am. I mean, we seem to have a sort of thing going on here."

"That's definitely one way to describe it, yes," Bombshell said. "You have anything to write with?"

Without even thinking, Mae fished her notebook and pen out of her pocket and handed them to Bombshell. It didn't occur to Mae that it would be embarrassing if Bombshell looked at some of her later entries. Instead, Mae just watched excitedly as her crush scrawled some stuff down on the inside of the journal's cover.

Mae's heart thumped in her chest as Bombshell slid the journal and pen back into Mae's hands. Mae noted with some excitement that Bombshell had drawn a little heart next to her contact info.

"There you go," Bombshell said. "Now that you have that, I'll be waiting to hear from you."

"Yeah, me too," Mae said.

Bombshell laughed at that. Mae joined her, though her laugh felt nervous and forced. Why were they laughing?

With a wink and a smile, Bombshell turned and walked off towards the dancefloor. She disappeared into the crowd of gyrating bodies, and soon Mae was all alone at the bar. Bea and Jackie, still nowhere to be found.

Mae was okay with being alone for once, though. She'd done it. She'd gotten a cute girl's info. She was going to call and message the shit out of Bombshell. Then, eventually, they would make out and go live on a farm in Iowa.

Absolutely nothing could bring Mae's mood down.

"Oh, hiya!" Andy Cullen said as he approached Mae from the other side of the bar.

Mae felt herself silent curse whatever god was constantly effing her over lately. Thanks a lot, God.

Mae looked around the bar, hoping to find some sort of distraction. Maybe she'd inexplicably bump into someone else from her past, and she could shift her focus to that. After a few seconds of searching, Mae realized this wasn't going to happen.

Andy was next to her now. He looked like he was trying too hard to be friendly. Though there was a large, warm smile on his face, his eyes looked anxious. He was holding a plastic cup in front of him, cradling it in both hands.

Why had he come up to Mae? They'd spoken, like, twice in the past. Mae kind of got the feeling that Andy didn't talk to a lot of people, though. He was probably desperate to talk to someone.

He'd just chosen the person who'd put him in the hospital.

"Heya, Andy," Mae said, chuckling nervously.

Andy seemed to relax a bit. His tight grip on his cup eased a little, and he joined her in laughing.

"It's Drew, actually," he said. "Did I mention that? I think I mentioned that. I kind of… forgot your name, actually."

Mae winced. She silently prayed for Bea or Jackie to emerge from the dancefloor and save her from this mess. Where were they? How long did it take to get through a crowd of dancing college kids?

Evidently, it took a while.

"My name…" Mae stopped. Was it safe to say her name? Would he recognize it? Not everyone was able to remember names like Mae could. Mae didn't want to risk him recognizing it, but she also didn't know if she could lie.

"It's… Margaret," Mae said. There. That wasn't lying. That wasn't lying at all. There was no way he'd recognize her by that name; not even her parents called her Margaret anymore.

Andy laughed, clearly relieved. "Good, good," he said, for some reason. "I'm Drew."

"Yeah, I know," Mae said.

Silence. Well, relative silence. They weren't talking, but some slow EDM music was blaring out of the speakers. Andy continued standing there, smiling a smile that was too big for his face. He continued not drinking from his cup. Mae tapped her fingers nervously on the sides of her leg.

Somewhere on the dancefloor, Bea was getting elbowed in the ribs for the fifteenth time.

Andy was the one to break the silence.

"I'm not bothering you, am I?" He asked. He looked so unsure of himself.

Mae looked up at him, wondering if his anxiety was related to his crooked nose. He was probably sensitive about it. Mae would be, if she had a nose like that. She kind of had an ear like that, but it was less noticeable than a nose.

If he was anxious because of his facial deformity, Mae felt like she was to blame. His nose was like that because of what Mae had done— because of her stupid brain crapping out on her, and her not knowing how to handle it. Her almost constant aggression hadn't helped the situation.

"You're not bothering me," Mae said. That was pretty much completely untrue, but she didn't want to make Andy feel bad. "I'm just waiting for my friends. They're stuck on the dancefloor, I think."

Andy nodded understandingly. "Yeah, my boyfriend's out there, too. I tried to go in after him, but I couldn't really navigate all of those people."

"It was easy for me to get through, since I'm short," Mae said. Meanwhile, Bea was probably stuck between gyrating frat boys, and Jackie had probably started at least four fights by now. They'd probably gotten dragged into a conversation with Buck by now, too.

Yes, Buck. Clearly the most memorable person in Mae's life recently. Whoever he was.

The well of conversation topics seemed to dry up, and the two returned to waiting awkwardly for their respective companions to join them. Andy was looking around awkwardly, clutching his drink for dear life. Mae silently sucked air through her teeth.

She wondered if it would be rude to just walk away. Probably not, right? This was clearly weird for both of them. At the same time, though, it didn't seem like Andy had anyone else to talk to. It was better to be anxious with someone else than to be anxious alone, right?

"Nice music," Mae said, struggling to keep the conversation going.

"What?" Andy asked.

"I said, 'Nice music.'"

"Oh, god, for some reason I thought you were asking for my drink," Andy laughed. "I mean, yeah, I guess. I'm more into, like, country stuff. There's this place I go to called the Beaver's Rook, but it got shut down because of a bunch of scorpions."

"Oh, hey, I went there last month." Mae said. "I got drunk and screamed at my ex. Then I had a weird dream about caves."

Andy nodded, as if what Mae said made perfect sense. This was good. Things were awkward, but Mae felt like the softball incident wasn't going to come up. As long as Mae kept het cool and didn't mess up, she could keep talking to Andy.

"Well, it was nice talking to you, Margaret," Andy said.

"It's Mae," Mae corrected. She did it almost on instinct. It came out before she even had time to realize how dumb it was. Andy seemed confused, but it didn't look like he recognized 'Mae' as the name of someone who hospitalized him. Mae hurried to correct her mistake.

"Mae-garet," Mae said. "That's how it's pronounced. Mae-garet. Mae-garet Borowski."

Wait, saying her last name probably wasn't smart. Mae watched in horror as a look of vague familiarity formed on Andy's face.

"Borowski?" He repeated. "God, that sounds familiar. Like, I can't shake this feeling that we've met before. Did we go to bible camp or something?"

Mae had gone to bible camp when she was younger. She'd stopped after the third grade, though, after she got into a fistfight with Katie Washington.

"No, no," Mae said slowly. She was getting nervous. And she said stupid shit when she was nervous. "Funny story about that, actually. I mean, we have met before. A while ago. Heh."

Andy wasn't running away screaming, so it seemed like he didn't know what she was talking about. Mae probably should have taken that as a sign to stop. She did not do that smart thing. Instead, she continued doing the dumb thing.

"I mean, I'm pretty sure we met," Mae laughed. "I didn't know for sure until I asked you about the softball incident. But you could be a completely different Andy Cullen, but that also might be wishful thinking. You know?"

Mae laughed and laughed. She was vaguely aware of the fact that her laughter was way louder than sane laughter should be. Regardless, she kept on laughing. She kept laughing even as a look of confusion, and then horrified realization, slowly appeared on Andy Cullen's twisted-up face.

This was now the nightmare scenario. Everything else in the club seemed to slow down and take on a sort of distorted quality, as if the world were a song playing at a fraction of its speed. The lights were frozen in the air; long streaks of fluorescent colors, hanging like aurora borealis.

With the world slowed to a crawl, Mae's mind raced. She could salvage this, right? She hadn't actually said she was the one who had hospitalized him. If Mae played it cool and smart and didn't let a tide of stupidity flow from her mouth, she could avoid making a scene.

"I'm the one who put you in the hospital," Mae said.

Andy Cullen's face became impossible to read. He seemed to be experiencing a million emotions at once, and his expression shifted between all of them in the span of a few seconds. Even while she watched this happen, though, Mae couldn't tell what he was feeling. Anger? Fear? Despair? Arousal?

No, probably not that last one. Definitely not.

"So, I just… look, Andy, I really want to apologize," Mae said. She was trying to sound as sincere as possible, but for some reason Mae felt like she wanted to laugh. "Like, I can't imagine how that must have been for you. I just…"

Andy cut her off midsentence by slamming his cup onto the bar counter. Before Mae could say anything else, he wordlessly wheeled around and walked towards the dancefloor.

Part of Mae wanted to run after him, but that probably wasn't a good idea. Mae wanted to apologize more; she wanted Andy to forgive her. But with the way he was rapidly storming off, Mae doubted that right now was the best time for that.

As Mae pondered all of this, Andy Cullen disappeared into the crowded dancefloor. The world resumed moving at a normal pace.

"What the eff did you just do?!"

Mae's solemn silence was interrupted by the sudden sound of Jackie's voice. With a start, Mae spun on her heels and saw Jackie and Bea standing to her right. They both looked pretty angry with Mae.

Well, Bea looked more neutral than anything else, but Jackie was angry enough for both of them.

"How long have you guys been standing there?" Mae asked. It was all she could think to say. For some reason, Andy figuring out who Mae was and then storming off had left Mae feeling… embarrassed? Was that the right word?

It was the only word Mae had, really.

"We've been standing here the whole time, you asshole," Jackie snapped. "We got here while you were flirting with that girl."

Mae opened her mouth to respond, but stopped. "How did I not notice that?" She finally asked. "That seems like something I would have noticed."

"You don't notice most things, Mae," Bea said with a sigh. She folded her arms across her chest. Mae got the feeling that the Mom Friend was now the Judge Friend. Bea didn't have much patience for Mae's dumbassery, after all. "What the hell made you think it was a good idea to bring up the softball thing?"

"I mean, I kind of wasn't thinking," Mae said. "The words just sort of came out of my mouth."

There really wasn't anything Mae could say to defend her sudden confession. She was feeling shittier and shittier the more she thought about what had just happened. The look on Andy's face and the way he'd stormed off without saying a word; they weren't the reaction Mae had expected.

Mae had expected him to get angry. Part of her had wanted that. Mae had wanted Andy to drop his anxious, demure behavior and let out whatever anger or sadness he had inside of him. Mae felt like she deserved whatever he'd have to say.

But instead, he'd simply left. And now Mae was left standing at the bar with Jackie glaring daggers at her.

"I effed up," Mae said quietly.

While Bea looked a bit more sympathetic, Jackie seemed to only get angrier. "Damn right, you effed up," Jackie said. "Oh my god. You know, I actually respected you a little for apologizing to me earlier. But now you go and drop a bombshell like that on poor Drew?"

Bea opened her mouth to say something. Mae hoped it would be something in Mae's defense, but Bea was interrupted before she could speak.

"Leave," Jackie said. "Get the hell out of here. Don't come back until you learn how to effing control your mouth."

Mae was very quiet. "Okay," she said, her voice barely a whisper. Mae turned and began to walk towards the dancefloor, intending to head towards the exit. Bea soon followed after her.

Jackie watched them both leave, her arms folded over her chest.


	19. Bonus: Gregg and Angus Have Dinner

Having a broken leg was kind of weird. It was like having both legs, but instead you only had one. Gregg was truly experiencing a thing that there were no words for.

He was at least able to move around. That was good, probably. Sure, he was hobbling around pretty slowly, and the crutches kind of made his armpits hurt, but other than that, things were good for ol' Gregg.

Well, sort of good. He and Angus were going to have to spend the Bright Harbor money to cover the hospital bill. That meant they were stuck in Possum Springs for a while.

But Gregg wasn't upset! No, sir, Gregg was staying positive. Getting upset and dreary would make everyone else upset and dreary. Mae already blamed herself for Gregg's accident, and the Cap'n was depressed about the setback. That meant it was up to Gregg to maintain positivity in Possum Springs.

It wasn't really easy to stay positive after a day spent working, though. A broken leg wasn't enough to get Gregg out of work. Even if it was, he couldn't really afford time off. He and Angus needed money.

They needed money, and food. Mostly food.

As usual, Angus had volunteered to take up that job. At the moment, he was out of town, tending to some—ugh—family business. Knowing his boyfriend, though, Gregg knew Angus would be picking something up. Maybe Chinese. Angus liked Chinese.

It was around 6:30 when Gregg realized that Angus was running late. That wasn't exactly unusual when Angus had to visit his mom. No matter how brief Angus might try and make the visit, that old bitch would find some way to drag it out forever.

By contrast, Gregg's visits with his family were mercifully brief. That could be chalked up to the mutual awkwardness between the involved parties, however.

It wasn't that Gregg and his family hated each other. On the contrary; Gregg knew his parents loved him. But 'love' and 'like' are two different things, and Gregg also knew that familial ties didn't change the fact that sometimes people just didn't get along.

Gregg was sitting at the couch, playing a game of Werewolf: Shred the Gnar 5 (The most recent and controversial installment in the horror/skateboarding series). His broken leg stuck out straight forward. It looked so weird and unfamiliar; like some new piece of furniture that Gregg had somehow been fused to.

He still needed to get his cast signed. Hopefully Mae would feel well enough to do so soon. If not, Gregg could just forge her signature himself. He had practice doing that.

As a song by Disgruntled Youth played, and Gregg attempted to do a sick grind on a haunted stairwell, he began to hear footsteps coming down the hall. He recognized them instantly as the Cap'n's. Gregg knew the sound of Angus anywhere.

But there was something else. A second, slightly heavier set of footsteps were accompanying the first. Gregg paused the game to hear better, but by that point they were right outside the door. He listened as Angus tested the knob, found it was unlocked, and let himself and his guest in.

"Heya, Cap'n!" Gregg said cheerfully as his boyfriend entered the apartment. The second party stepped inside, and Gregg felt his cheer die down a little. "Oh," he said, less enthusiastically, "your brother's visiting?"

Angus looked a bit bashful. The man accompanying him, who basically looked like a shorter, skinnier Angus, seemed to be similarly embarrassed about his sudden intrusion. Gregg couldn't help but notice that Angus's brother was staring at Gregg's cast.

"I thought it'd be nice," Angus said. He was carrying a large plastic bag. Gregg could see a rice carton from a Chinese restaurant poking out of the top. "Sorry for not telling you. But, y'know. No phones."

Gregg did his best to put on his usual, Greggy smile. Even if he wasn't exactly happy about this, he didn't want Angus to be upset. "Hey, no problem! As long as we've got enough food for everyone!"

Angus cheered up a bit. He glanced from Gregg, to his brother, and nodded. "Okay," he said. "Uh. I'm going to go get set up." With that, he wandered into the kitchen.

Angus's brother, Don Delaney, wasn't really Gregg's favorite person. Sure, Gregg supposed that he was about the only person in Angus's family that the Cap'n got along with; that probably meant Gregg should have liked him a bit more. But Don was always dragging Angus along to visit their mother.

The less said about her, the better.

"So," Don said, trying to start a conversation. "Your leg's all…"

"Yeah," Gregg said, nodding. Then, after thinking for a moment, he added, "Yeah."

Don nodded in agreement. He slid his hands into his pockets. From the kitchen, the sound of Angus fishing around for clean plates and silverware could be heard.

"How's the army?" Gregg asked.

"The army's good," Don responded. "I mean, it's not good, but… you know. It's a functioning thing. Kind of."

Gregg nodded. Sometimes he fantasized about being in the army. While part of him thought it was a cool idea, Gregg knew it wouldn't work out. He'd cried after shooting a turkey; shooting actual people would probably be impossible. It didn't occur to Gregg that there were jobs in the military that didn't involve shooting. Then again, Gregg would likely consider those jobs fairly boring.

All in all, Gregg decided that he just liked the idea of dressing up in cool military gear.

An awkward silence set in, but it was mercifully short. Angus soon emerged from the kitchen carrying plates of freshly microwaved Chinese food. After fishing around for some TV trays that they kept behind the couch, the three of them were sat down and eating their food.

The game had been turned off. Angus had turned on a crime drama he liked and turned the volume down low. This was good, because noise from the TV would have gotten in the way of everyone not talking.

Gregg sat on the far left of the couch. His TV tray was awkwardly off to the side. His cast had prevented it from being set up directly in front of him. Angus was pressed up against him, providing a sort of comforting feeling that detracted from the awkwardness just a little.

Don was eating noodles like some sort of jerk.

Gregg didn't like the quiet. Angus enjoyed silence more or less, but Gregg couldn't stand it. He always needed something to be happening. He'd talk, he'd play music, he'd do some goofy shit. But it was hard to figure out what to do during an awkward silence like this one.

His mouth full of General Tso's famous chicken, Gregg took another shot at a conversation.

"Hey, did anyone else see that really funny video on Babblr?" Gregg asked. "The one with the sloth that's all, like… weh! You know?" He chuckled, fondly remembering the video. That sloth was all weh.

No answers. Angus gave a noncommittal grunting noise as he worked on his helping of noodles. Don acted like he hadn't heard Gregg.

In hindsight, viral videos probably weren't great conversation starters. No matter how weh a sloth is. Gregg resumed eating.

A commercial for Ham Panther played on the TV.

Dinner progressed in much the same way. Gregg found himself getting full fairly early, and was barely able to make it through his leftovers. Angus and his brother, meanwhile, continued to eat at a slow, thoughtful pace. Gregg wished he could be slow and thoughtful.

It didn't take too long for Angus to realize that Gregg had stopped eating. When he offered to clear Gregg's plate for him, Gregg reassured his boyfriend that he could do it himself. When Angus pointed out that Gregg had a broken leg and literally couldn't do it himself, Gregg relented. Angus carried Gregg's plate and silverware into the kitchen, leaving Gregg and Don alone once more.

Gregg glanced over at Don, who was fixated on his food. Don seemed to notice Gregg looking at him, however, and looked in his direction. They made eye contact before Gregg looked away hurriedly. It was very awkward, and nobody was comfortable.

Angus soon emerged from the kitchen. Gregg gave him a grateful smile for rescuing him from the awkward situation. Angus didn't seem to understand why Gregg was smiling, so he just smiled back. He folded up Gregg's TV tray and set it behind the couch.

Just as Gregg was about to scoot over to make room for his Cap'n, however, Angus collected his own plate and silverware and took them into the kitchen. Of course. Gregg pouted a bit as he was pulled back into the world's most awkward couch session.

"So," Don's voice said, snapping Gregg out of his funk. Gregg turned to see Don was looking at him. Don's plate was clear; a few smears of sweet and sour sauce the only remains of the meal. "How'd you break your leg, if you don't mind me asking?"

Gregg sort of did mind. Not that he could say that. He had to be polite, for Angus's sake. He loved Angus, and Don was the only decent person in Angus's family. The only decent person who wasn't dead, anyway; apparently, Angus's uncle had been okay.

"I fell into a ravine," Gregg said nonchalantly. It didn't occur to him to lie and make up some more adult-sounding story. Falling into a ravine was something that happened a lot in Possum Springs.

"Oh, I see," Don said, his tone conveying the fact that he very much didn't see. He sounded like he was trying very politely to hide the fact that he thought Gregg was an absolute idiot. It was a tone, unfortunately, that Gregg knew very well.

Lots of people thought Gregg was stupid. Even Gregg thought he was stupid sometimes. And, yeah, Gregg guessed that he was kind of dumb. He couldn't name all fifty states, and he didn't actually know who the president was. But Gregg got the feeling that some people thought there was something wrong with him.

Maybe there was. Gregg did dumb stuff for no reason. He was hyper, and loud, and had mood swings. Gregg had never been diagnosed with anything; mostly because his parents had never taken him to a psychiatrist. This was probably good, though, because they probably would have taken him to Dr. Hank, who would misdiagnose the hell out of him.

Gregg tried to sweep these thoughts under the metaphorical rug and get back to his conversation with Don.

"Yeah, it's pretty rough," Gregg said. "I mean, we don't have health insurance. We had money for it, but… yeah."

'Barely' had money for it was the more appropriate term. They'd taken quite a hit to their Bright Harbor money. That had caused a bit of stress. Gregg and Angus hadn't been fighting, but Gregg could feel the tension building up. If they didn't talk about this soon, they'd wind up either getting into an argument or having a mutual cry-fest.

With Don around, though, they couldn't really talk about anything.

Angus returned to collect Don's plate and silverware. He returned fairly quickly, thank God, and handed out drinks. Beer for Gregg and Don, a soda for Angus. The Cap'n didn't drink much.

With all three of them on the couch, Gregg was reminded of how much he hated corner seats. His arm felt weird if he left it on the rest for too long. With three people on the couch, though, the middle seat wouldn't be much better. Then again, Gregg didn't think he'd mind being stuck between two bears.

Gregg laughed at his private joke. Good one, Gregg.

As Gregg took slow, appreciative swigs of his beer, he tuned into Don and Angus's conversation. Gregg wasn't exactly surprised to hear they were discussing the visit with their mother. Gregg felt his stomach churn as he listened to his boyfriend talk about the woman who'd made his life hell.

Gregg rarely asked Angus about his visits with his mother. Gregg didn't want to know anything about her. He knew all he needed to know from Angus's stories. The pantry, the starving, the crying; how Angus could bare to go visit her was a mystery to Gregg.

"She seems to be doing well, I guess," Angus said. He didn't sound happy about his mother's good health. He sounded like going to visit her was a chore. "She was in a better mood than last time, at least."

"Yep, yep," Don said noncommittally. "I think us going back home to visit is the only socializing she gets anymore. Kinda sad, I think."

"Uh, yeah," Angus said. He sounded like he didn't completely agree with Don.

Gregg didn't agree either. Oh, boohoo, the abusive bitch didn't have any friends. Oh, so sad, the only people she talked to were her sons, both of whom she'd treated like the scum of the earth.

Who cared if it was sad? She deserved to be sad. Gregg didn't understand why Don didn't get that. Just because she was their mother didn't mean they were obligated to visit her, or to feel sorry for her. There was nothing wrong with cutting ties with people like her.

A little while longer passed. Before Gregg knew it, everyone had finished their drinks. With a tired groan, Don lifted himself up off of the couch. He looked over at his brother and Gregg and gave a brief, curt nod to them.

"Well, thanks for having me, 'Gus." He said. "I should get home, though." Don glanced towards Gregg and lifted his hand in an awkward wave. "Nice seeing you again, Gregg. Get well soon."

Angus got up off of the couch and pulled his brother into a hug. It was seeing a display like this that made Gregg feel bad about his attitude towards Don. Don and Angus were both survivors. Though they were a bit distant, they still clearly had a bond. Gregg almost felt like he had no right to dislike Don.

Besides, if Gregg and Angus ever decided to officially tie the knot, Don would be Gregg's brother-in-law. Hating your in-laws was a stupid sitcom cliché; not something you should do in real life.

Angus walked Don out the door, closing it behind them. Gregg listened as their footsteps grew fainter as they walked down the hall and descended the stairs.

* * *

A few hours after Angus returned from dropping his brother off, it was time for bed. Gregg wasn't so bad off that he needed help changing (Not that he would have minded), but the 21-year-old tended to just sleep in his underclothes. The only thing his broken leg had changed about his sleep schedule was that he had to sleep on the couch.

The bed was comfier. The old mattress practically had an impression of Gregg's body in it by now. The couch, meanwhile, was a springy monstrosity that Gregg wouldn't force his worst enemy to lay on. Worst of all, though, was the fact that Gregg was now sleeping alone.

He had no doubt that Angus would have joined him if he asked. But the couch didn't have a lot of room. Besides, Gregg wanted Angus to stay in the comfortable bed. He didn't want his boyfriend to make any sacrifices on his behalf.

To make up for that, the two were cuddled up on the couch watching TV before they went to bed. Angus was big enough that Gregg could lean his entire boy against him, like a big, handsome pillow. A pillow that wore a hat and talked a lot about atheism.

"Hey, Bug?" Angus said as the TV played quietly. A nature show starring Gregg's favorite survivalist, Rick Rekkage, was playing on the TV. It was a rerun, though; an episode about urban survival, or maybe about ghosts.

"Sorry for bringing Don here without warning you," Angus said. "I know you two don't get along too well."

Gregg felt a twinge of guilt. Angus had certainly hit the nail on the head. Gregg looked away from the TV, up into his boyfriend's bespectacled eyes.

"You don't gotta apologize, hon," Gregg said gently. "Your brother's a good dude. If you want to have him over, I'll be friendly and stuff. It's just…" Gregg sighed. There was no point in hiding this, was there? "I don't like that he makes you go visit your mom."

Angus was quiet. He seemed to be contemplating what Gregg had said. As he thought, Angus wrapped an arm around Gregg and held him a bit closer.

"Yeah," Angus said. "To be fair, though, even if Don didn't say we had to go, I'd probably still check in on her. I don't want nothing to do with her, but at the same time, I guess I can't just leave her alone. It's kind of ridiculous."

Gregg couldn't help but chuckle. He placed a hand on Angus's chest and looked up at him, smiling. On the TV, Rick Rekkage was pointing frantically at a group of teenagers dressed as ghosts.

"It's not ridiculous," Gregg said. "That's just you being extremely nice and good."

Angus smiled sadly. "I'm no more than anyone else," he said. "But that's not it, Gregg. I wish I could just say no when Don says we have to visit mom. I wish I could just cut ties with my mom. I feel like it should be easy, but it isn't." He laughed a bit. "That's why I was looking forward to Bright Harbor. We'd be miles away from this town and everyone in it."

The way he spoke about Bright Harbor, like it was something far off in the past, made Gregg feel awful.

"I'm so sorry," Gregg murmured. He felt the hand on Angus's chest grip the material of his sweater. "I effed up, Angus. I was so scared when Mae ran off, and I wasn't thinking… I just…"

"Shhh," Angus whispered. Gregg felt his boyfriend's lips press against the top of his head. "Bug, we'll get through this. This was all just an accident. It's nobody's fault you broke your leg. I'm upset, but I'm not upset at you. If anything, I'm upset at gravity, or the healthcare system."

Gregg nodded quietly. He hated both of those things. On the TV, Rick Rekkage and a priest were trying to exorcise the teenagers. It was a really good show.

Gregg and Angus fell asleep cuddled up on the couch. The TV continued to play as they slept, and they both had weird dreams as a result.

The next day, Gregg had a neck cramp.


	20. Return to Possum Leap

Mae's second trip out to Possum Leap was quite a hike. She likely could have asked Bea for a ride, but after what had happened at the party last night, Mae didn't really want to be around anyone. Bea was sympathetic, but Mae knew she thought that Mae had made a huge mistake.

Well, to be fair, Mae had made a huge mistake. That was to be expected, though. Mae found that she sometimes just said things. Dumb shit poured out of her mouth, like some sort of beautiful diarrhea fountain.

Whatever. It was good that Mae was on her own this time. She wasn't sure why she'd come to Possum Leap, and she didn't want to answer any questions or risk looking like she was crazier than she already was.

The area around the fire pit looked more or less the same as last time. The forest janitors hadn't been around to clean up, it seemed. Mae guessed it hadn't been that long since she'd been here, though. They probably hadn't gotten a chance to tidy up.

Actually, how long had it been since she'd been here? Mae had no clue. The passage of time over the last few months was vague, at best. Instead of a sequence of events, the past was more like a collection of vaguely related scenes. It was like a bunch of unrelated skits, or a story whose author hadn't planned things out properly.

This time, Mae didn't just sit and wait for something to happen. Instead, she looked around. Mae searched the small clearing for any sign of why she kept being reminded of this place. Mae didn't really know what she was looking for. She imagined it would be obvious when she saw it.

Mae passed by the spot where she'd spat beer all over Ron Boonstra, and came to a large tree on the edge of the clearing. What kind of trees were these, anyway? Oaks? Firs? Those were the only two types of trees Mae knew about.

This tree was a big, healthy thing. It looked like Mae would barely be able to wrap her stubby little arms around it. Various names and initials had been carved into the bark, some of them too worn and faded to read.

Mae placed one hand on the surface of the tree. She traced her palm down the rough bark, drawing her hand down to a pair of letters carved just a little bit below her shoulders:

 _KC._

Mae was instantly gripped by an intense feeling of nostalgia. KC; Casey. Casey had written his name like that when they were younger. He'd thought he was so clever, but really he was just making a bad joke.

Those two letters were so stupid. They made Mae want to cry.

Mae slapped the tree. How dare it make her feel things.

Mae tried to think of when Casey might have carved his name into this tree. Had he come up here to do drug things for his cousin? Were the woods even a good place to do drug things? It didn't seem like it would be good for business. Mae would have to ask Levy. He knew a lot about drugs and woods.

When Mae thought about it, though, she felt like she knew when Casey had done this. It was during the party she wasn't going to think about. Mae spent so much time not thinking about that party, she'd forgotten a lot of things about it. But looking back, Mae could distinctly remember Casey carving his abridged name into this tree.

It had been after Mae ruined Beth and Levy's night, but before Mae had fallen out of a tree and wound up covered in corn chips…

That was when Mae remembered something. It came to her suddenly, like a flash of inspiration or a weird idea about geese. Mae wasn't exactly happy to remember it, either. The more she dwelled on this memory, the more she realized she had forgotten something that had happened in the woods.

It had happened suddenly, and without warning. She was with Casey, trying to forget what had happened to Levy. Casey had been trying to cheer her up, joking around and talking about girls they both liked. They'd been at the edge of the clearing, by this tree, and Casey was leaving his mark on it.

All of a sudden, something had happened. Mae wasn't sure what it was. Maybe she was thinking about embarrassing Levy too much. Maybe she was thinking about how the people at the party thought she was a killer.

Whatever it had been, it had turned the world into shapes. The trees seemed to be everywhere. The clearing and the fire pit, and all the people enjoying the party were all drifting away. While Casey carved those two letters into the tree, Mae felt herself drift out of her body, as if she were a ghost.

There had been music; accordion, tuba, saxophone, and violin. It had an ethereal, echoing quality that filled the forest and the sky. _Mae drifted upwards, the world turning around her. Everything was growing, or shrinking, or broken._

 _Mae began to hyperventilate. The passage of time became alien to her. Was she at the party still? Had there been a party to begin with? Was she at college? Was she in the mines? Had she fallen into the hole at the center of anything?_

 _"_ _Mae?" A voice called out. Mae could barely recognize it. Everything seemed so very far away._

 _"_ _Mae!" The voice said, much more forcefully. Mae snapped back to reality. She was in the woods that surrounded the clearing. The party was several feet behind her. The sound of music and laughter was slightly distant._

 _Casey stood behind her, a worried look on his face. He had been the one to call out to her when she was drifting off. Mae stared at him, almost not recognizing him for a moment. She took a deep breath, collecting her thoughts._

 _"_ _You okay?" Casey asked. "You just wandered off. Like, sleepwalking."_

 _Mae wasn't okay. She couldn't tell Casey that, though. She couldn't tell anyone. Mae hadn't even been able to tell the truth to her parents, or Dr. Hank. By saying it out loud, it would become more real. And Mae didn't want people thinking she was losing it._

 _"_ _Yeah," Mae muttered. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just… needed some air." Mae laughed unconvincingly. Casey's expression was a mixture of confusion and concern._

 _"_ _Okay, weirdo," Casey said, laughing a bit. "You shouldn't be out here, though. Woods're dangerous at night."_

 _Despite her anxiety over the episode she'd just experienced, Mae felt herself manage a disbelieving chuckle. "Dangerous?" She repeated. "What, you afraid that Little Joe will get us or something?"_

 _Casey stared at Mae, absolutely deadpan. "No," he said. "I'm afraid that one of the assholes who live in the cabins around here will shoot at us. Possum Leap's private property."_

 _"_ _No it isn't," Mae retorted._

 _"_ _Okay, it's adjacent to private property," Casey said, rolling his eyes._

 _Mae wasn't afraid of a bunch of weirdos living in cabins. Mae wasn't afraid of most things that people with common sense avoided. Whether that was a symptom of her risk taking behavior, or her just not thinking about consequences, though, no one could say for certain._

 _"_ _C'mon, Mae," Casey said. He waved his hand towards the clearing, partially turning to walk in that direction. "Let's get back to the party."_

 _Mae stood there. She didn't really want to go back. She wanted to go home. She wanted to get in bed and sleep until she felt right again. Mae typically medicated her depression and dissociative episodes with heavy doses of sleep. It was hard to have problems when you were sleeping._

 _Just because Mae felt bad, though, that was no reason to ruin her friends' night. Gregg and Angus were having a good time, and Casey was… also here. He didn't seem to be having fun, but he was at least… present._

 _Also, Casey said that the woods were dangerous. That was practically an invitation to screw around in them._

 _"_ _I wanna explore," Mae said. She looked out into the shadowy expanse of the woods. Casey reached out and grabbed Mae's arm before she could walk further in._

 _"_ _No, Margaret," He said firmly. Mae hated when he used her real name. It made it seem like he was trying to scold her. Casey really didn't have much of a leg to stand on when it came to telling people how to live their lives, though. "C'mon. Let's go see if Gregg's drunk yet."_

 _"_ _I wanna explore!" Mae repeated. She drew out the last word for practically a whole second. With a firm tug, Mae pulled her arm out of Casey's grip and ran off into the woods._

 _Mae heard Casey give a little sigh, and soon he was following after her._

 _As they moved further from the party, the sounds of nature replaced the sounds of douchebag music. Owls hooted, crickets chirped, and there was probably a raccoon doing its thing somewhere. It was all pretty spooky. Mae felt amazed at how scary a place could be when you moved away from the only source of light._

 _"_ _So," Casey said slowly. Mae looked over her shoulder at the vague silhouette of one of her oldest friends. Casey had his hands in the pockets of his hoodie, and was looking around with mild interest. "You wanna talk about what happened back there? I mean, with the sleepwalking thing."_

 _Mae didn't say anything. She didn't know how she could explain her sudden detachment from reality. Mae didn't even know the word 'dissociate' existed yet. She also didn't want Casey to think she was having a repeat of the softball incident._

 _Even though she kind of was._

 _It was ridiculous. Normally, she only had episodes like that when she was alone in a new place. The party might have been in an unfamiliar area, but Mae was surrounded by people. The incident with Levy had her feeling a little isolated, sure, but she wasn't by herself._

 _And what had that music been? It sounded like the kind of music her dad liked. It had been pretty catchy, even if it wasn't what Mae normally listened to. It had been a sort of folk music thing. The sound of it had filled the air with colors._

 _Accordion, tuba, saxophone, and violin. Or a fiddle. Mae didn't know if there was a difference._

 _Mae raised her hand up to swat away a firefly flickering near her face. A bunch of the little guys were swarming around her. Mae paid them no mind and continued walking forward. One really big firefly floated right in front of her._

 _Mae stopped. The big firefly was getting bigger. It bounced up and down as it came closer and closer. Soon, Mae could see it wasn't a firefly at all. It was a flashlight._

 _"_ _Oh, shit," Casey said. He had a slight laugh in his voice. He evidently wasn't as scared as Mae was._

 _But why was she scared? The person carrying the flashlight had stopped a good distance away. Mae could make out the shadow of a man in his thirties or forties. It didn't look like he had a gun or a chainsaw, so they probably weren't going to get attacked. But Mae was still terrified._

 _In the back of her mind, Mae could hear the sound of metal against metal._

 _"_ _The hell're you kids doing out here?" The man called out. In a few years, Mae would hear his voice again. He switched off his flashlight as he walked closer. He looked confused, but not angry._

 _"_ _We're wood spirits," Mae said. "We live out here."_

 _The man didn't react to Mae's confession. That was fair. Mae had no idea why she'd said it, anyway._

 _"_ _We were just sorta hiking," Casey explained. "We came from a party a little ways away." Casey sounded like he really didn't want to explain this. It was almost like he hadn't wanted to follow Mae out into the woods._

 _"_ _Well, you two're technically trespassing," the man said. He sounded fairly weary, himself. "I'm gonna need you to turn around and head on back. I'm not…" He stopped suddenly, as if just realizing something. Though his face wasn't clear, Mae could tell he had shifted focus to her._

 _"_ _Hang on," he said. "You're Borowski, right? Mae Borowski?"_

 _"_ _Yeah…?" Mae said uncertainly. It was never good when a stranger knew your name. Either they were someone you met but didn't remember, or they'd heard stuff about you through the grapevine. Unfortunately for Mae, most of the grapevines concerning her were rotten. She didn't think there were any good rumors about her. People mostly remembered her for the softball incident._

 _The man nodded. He didn't seem upset to see her. He didn't seem… anything. Neutral, at most._

 _"_ _I thought so," he said. "Molly talks about you a lot; says you're always getting into trouble." There was something about the way he said 'getting into trouble' that sounded distasteful. Mae guessed he didn't approve of whatever hijinks Aunt Mall Cop had told him about._

 _It was a little weird that Aunt Mall Cop was friends with some weirdo who apparently hung out in the woods at night. Mae didn't really think of Aunt Molly as the type of person who even had friends. She was always so serious._

 _"_ _How do you know my aunt?" Mae asked, her curiosity getting the better of her. She heard Casey sigh. It sounded like he didn't want to be alone with a weirdo for much longer. Unlike Mae, he seemed to realize that talking to a stranger in the woods wasn't a great idea._

 _The man didn't answer right away. He was interrupted by a strange noise. It had the same quality as the music Mae had heard earlier, but this noise was nowhere near as pleasant. It was a harsh, screeching noise like metal scratching against metal. Something about it sent chills down Mae's spine. She felt the noise in her teeth._

 _In the dim light, Mae saw that the strange man was spacing out a little bit. He was staring off towards the east, seemingly mesmerized by something. His mouth moved as if he was muttering something, but no noise came out._

 _No, he wasn't saying anything. But Mae slowly realized he was moving his lips along with the strange metal noise._

 _Mae glanced over at Casey to see if he was noticing this. Nope. Casey looked bored as hell. He had his hands behind his head and was glancing off to the side. He didn't seem to be bothered by the noise at all. Weird._

 _Mae needed to get out of there. She felt wrong all over. It was like when she had one of her episodes, only everything was staying in place. Mae took a deep breath in, out, and tried to steady her nerves._

 _"_ _Well, it was nice meeting you," Mae said. She struggled to stay calm. The noise in her head made her feel like she was chewing on aluminum foil. "We should get going, though."_

 _"_ _Uh-huh," the stranger said, paying them no mind. "It was nice meetin' ya, I guess." Then, he told them his name. It was an odd name, but Mae wasn't really paying enough attention to remember it._

 _"_ _C'mon, weirdo," Casey mumbled. He put his hand on Mae's shoulder and turned her around, guiding her back to the party. As they moved farther away from the main, the fainter that metallic noise got. When they were far enough away that the man disappeared into the darkness, the noise had completely stopped._

 _Casey, again, didn't seem to notice. It was like he hadn't heard the sound at all._

 _But, then, he hadn't, had he? Mae wasn't so sure she'd heard the noise herself. Maybe it had only been in her head. But even if it was just something in her mind, it was still real. Very real._

 _Mae would hear that noise again in the autumn of 2017. She would hear that noise in the mines beneath town._ She didn't know it back then, but she knew what it was now. It was the singing. It was the thing in the mines.

"Black Goat," Mae muttered.

Holy shit. Mae blinked twice and then rubbed her temple slowly. Her head was pounding. As the pain subsided, Mae slowly began to realize that she wasn't in the clearing anymore.

Somehow, while she was caught up in remembering that night two or three years ago, she'd wandered further into the woods. In Casey's words, she'd been sleepwalking. The blue sky above had turned a darkening orange, and there were no familiar landmarks anywhere around. When Mae turned, she saw that she couldn't even see the clearing she felt like she'd just been in.

That was fairly disconcerting.

More disconcerting was the dawning realization that Mae wasn't alone.

Just like several years ago, he was standing a good distance away. Despite the fact that it wasn't particularly bright out, the man had a flashlight out and was pointing it in Mae's direction. As he approached her, Mae realized several things in quick succession.

First of all, this was the man who'd approached Mae and Bea when they had come to Possum Leap. His neck was still in a brace, and his arm was still in a sling. He had the same distasteful expression on his gaunt face.

Secondly, he was also the man that Casey and Mae had encountered. The only difference was that he had lost weight, and clearly sustained a few injuries. Looking at him now, Mae realized that he looked much older than he actually was. He had aged considerably in the short amount of time since he'd met Mae and Casey.

Finally, Mae realized that the light wasn't coming from a flashlight. Rather, it was being produced by a miner's helmet on the man's head.

Mae wanted to run. She wanted to turn tail and sprint back to the parking lot, back to town, and back to her bed. But Mae's legs refused to move. Her body was practically frozen in place.

As the man drew nearer, the sound of metal against metal painfully rang in Mae's head.

When the man was only a few feet away, he reached his free hand up and switched off the light on his helmet. He glared at Mae, his expression one of pure contempt. Memories came rushing back to Mae, and she soon remembered the strange name the man had given to her and Casey.

"I really didn't think you'd be stupid enough to come out here," Eide said. "Especially not alone. I mean, god damn, kid. There's stupid, and then there's shit like this."

Mae didn't respond immediately. She was caught off-guard by actually seeing the face of the man who'd tried to kill her. The fact that she'd met him once before was also throwing Mae for a loop. The sheer surprise seemed to momentarily drown out whatever common sense Mae had.

"Your face looks like an ass," she said, shocking herself.

Eide's contemptuous sneer faltered for a moment. He self-consciously raised his hand to his face before scowling at Mae.

"Whose fault do you think that is?" He asked. As he spoke, he lowered his hand down and to his side, reaching for his back pocket. "Do you know what sorta hell I've been through? I had an elevator dropped on my neck. A god damned elevator! I shouldn't even be walking around!"

"No, you shouldn't!" Mae cried out. The noise in her head was intensifying. Mae was scared; scared, and angry. "How the eff are you even still alive?!"

"Black Goat," Eide said, speaking as if it were the most natural thing in the world. He slowly produced the item in his back pocket he had been reaching for. It was black, metal, and pointing right at Mae. Eide held it carefully in his hand, slowly raising it until Mae could see down the barrel.

"I ain't gonna lie, I didn't think I was gonna make it out of that mine," Eide snarled. "I was buried under the rubble; couldn't feel anything below my neck. Had no choice but to lay there and ask myself how this could've happened.

"Then I heard the Goat singing to me." Eide's voice took on an almost rapturous quality. A wide grin spread across his wrinkled, effed up face. "I shoulda known the Goat wouldn't let it end like that. Those others, they didn't hear Him the way I heard Him. My faith is what saved me. The Goat lifted me out of that mine so I could continue His work."

The reverence that Eide gave to that thing in the hole sent a chill up Mae's spine. She could practically hear Eide using capital H's when he referred to it. Granted, he was pointing a gun at her, so a lot of what Eide was doing had Mae on edge.

Mae cautiously took a step backwards. She was having flashbacks to the night they'd first stumbled on the cultists. She had felt like she'd spent all night running. Then, there was a loud bang, and Mae remembered falling for what felt like forever. What came after that was one of the worst days of her life. She'd felt like she was dying.

But Mae hadn't died. She'd lived. And she wasn't going to die here, either.

Mae curled her hands into fists. She kept her hands at her sides, watching Eide carefully as she steeled her resolve. Eide kept on talking, seemingly oblivious to Mae's determination not to die. There was no way she was going to get killed by an asshole that wore a headlamp during the day.

"I trusted the Goat to get me outta there," Eide said. "I dunno how He did it. I don't need to know. I blacked out, and next thing I knew, I was in a hospital. Docs said someone found me out in town." A sharp laugh, bitter and condescending, escaped from Eide. "The others didn't get out. They didn't know the Goat like I know Him. Their faith was only based on what He could do for them, not what He was."

"I remember our old pastor saying something like that," Mae blurted out. "About how you were supposed to have faith even when God was quiet. That was before he lost his religion when someone told him about vore."

"Shut up," Eide snapped. "I'm pointing an effing gun at you." He thrusted the pistol forward, illustrating to Mae that he was pointing an effing gun at her.

Mae looked from the gun, to Eide, to the gun again. Why did he even have that thing?

"Did you know I was going to come here?" Mae asked. Something was beginning to dawn on her. There was something about the way Eide spoke that reminded Mae of something from the last few months.

Mae's question brought a smile to Eide's face again. He was taking sick delight in this.

"I didn't just know you were coming here, girl," he said. "I'm the one who put the idea in your head."

Mae felt her resolve buckle for a moment; not out of fear, but out of sheer confusion. There was a lot about Eide and the Black Goat that Mae didn't get, but what he just said made no sense at all. Mae's expression changed into one of deep concentration as she tried to decipher what Eide had just said.

Whatever. There was no point in thinking about that.

Mae wasn't scared. She was too tired to be scared. Between her dissociating, her guilt, and the fact that someone had been following her around lately, Mae didn't have time to waste on worrying this guy was going to shoot her. Mae never did have the best self-preservation skills. If her friends were around, they'd think she was crazy for how not-seriously she was taking this.

"If you're going to shoot me," Mae said. "Then you'd better do it. I already survived getting shot at once. Plus, you're kind of, like, severely crippled. You probably couldn't hit me if I started running."

Eide scowled, his thumb moving up to pull back the hammer on his pistol. Mae looked at the arm he had in a sling. Now that Mae looked at it, it was probably prosthetic. The hand poking out of the sling had a stiff, unreal quality to it. It didn't move; didn't even twitch.

"Hey, where'd you get the new headlamp?" Mae asked.

"Oh my god, are you always like this?" Eide snapped. "I mean, shit! If I didn't have other plans, I'd shoot you right now!"

That caught Mae by surprise. "Other plans?" She repeated. "So, you're not going to shoot me?"

Eide rolled his eyes, as if Mae had just asked the stupidest question in the world. "No, you idiot. I'm—"

Before Eide could finish, Mae turned and began to run off. She heard him call out after her, screaming at her to stop. Mae just kept running. If she got away, it was his fault for admitting that he wasn't planning on shooting her. Despite having done it before, Eide didn't seem very good at murder.

Mae didn't look over her shoulder; she knew Eide was chasing after her. She could hear his feet crunching dead twigs and leaves as he kept pace with her. He was fast for a guy who'd been buried under a ton of rubble. Mae supposed it had been more than six months, though. That was probably enough time to heal a broken neck, right?

Mae kept running, jumping over bushes and fallen trees. Mae felt her heart pounding in her chest, her whole body burning with adrenaline. Dolphins surged through her body.

It was weird. Everything that had happened to Mae lately felt like a bad dream. Mae felt really alive. It was like rolling down a hill in a tire, or finally getting a cute girl's contact info. Mae didn't have great words for how she felt.

After another minute of running, Mae heard Eide's footsteps gradually slow down into nothingness. Had he stopped chasing her? Mae was too busy running to look back and see. She kept her eyes fixed forward until she saw the clearing with the fire pit come into view.

She was going to make it. Just a few more yards, and she'd reach the parking lot and its creepy war memorial. After that, she could run into town and tell her friends what had happened. It didn't matter if they believed Mae or not; what mattered was getting as far away from Possum Leap as possible.

Mae passed the tree with the letters 'KC' carved into it, and ran up to the fire pit. Without even thinking, Mae fell to her knees, breathing heavily. Her legs hadn't felt this sore in… well, ever. Not even when she'd run from the cultists last year. Her chest felt as if it was going to explode.

"Shit," Mae whispered. "Shit, shit, shit." The fact that she could cuss meant she was still alive. Mae was never so glad to swear as she was right then.

Despite her legs' pained protests, Mae managed to stand up. She still didn't hear Eide's footsteps, but that didn't mean he wasn't still following her. Besides, Mae knew from experience how well that guy could move around. She remembered the incident with the elevator vividly.

Mae's eyes widened as horror gripped her throat. Oh, god. The elevator. How could Mae have forgotten Eide suddenly appearing in the elevator?

Mae realized, too late, that she shouldn't have stopped.

Something wooly and dusty came up from behind Mae and forced itself over her mouth and nose. Mae let out a muffle cry of horror, lifting her hands to try and tear the thing from her face. The woolen sleeve concealed a thin, emaciated arm, but that arm was deceptively strong. The grip around Mae's face was like iron.

Mae kicked and struggled, but to no avail. She was vaguely aware of Eide breathing down her neck, saying something about a hole in the center of… something? Mae wasn't sure. It was getting hard to focus. It was getting hard to breathe.

For the second time that day, the world began to drift away from Mae Borowski. This time, though, there were no memories. Just darkness.


	21. Dreams Between the Stars

_"_ _Where am I?" Mae asked._

 _This was a dumb question, now that Mae thought about it. She was sitting beside a fire in the middle of a small clearing. To her left, there was Casey, roasting some marshmallows. To her right, there was Andy Cullen. Only he didn't look like Andy Cullen. He didn't have a face, for one thing; just a red hole. He didn't seem to mind, though. It was hard to tell, though, what with the lack of face._

 _"_ _God damn ghost marshmallows," Casey grumbled as he glared, angrily, at the sugary treat he had stuck onto a stick. "These seriously the best marshmallows you could dream up, Margaret?"_

 _"_ _Don't call me Margaret," Mae said. She paid no attention to Casey's comment about dreams. Casey said weird stuff sometimes. "Why's Andy Cullen here?"_

 _Casey pulled his stick from the fire, and inspected the marshmallow. Despite the time it spent over the fire, it hadn't been cooked at all. It was as clear and transparent as Casey was. That was normal for a marshmallow, and Mae knew that._

 _"_ _That ain't Andy Cullen," Casey said. "Andy Cullen's got a face, Mae."_

 _Mae looked over at Andy Cullen, who was staring, motionless, at the fire. The hole in his face dripped red shapes onto his softball uniform. Mae turned back to Casey and shrugged._

 _"_ _No, this is totally Andy," Mae said. She knew it was Andy, and therefore it had to be him. Casey didn't know what he was talking about. Mae watched him unenthusiastically poke at the ghostly marshmallow._

 _"_ _Mae, you really don't got time for this," Casey said sadly. "It's good to see you, and all, but you need to wake up. If you don't, you'll wind up in the hole. Just like me."_

 _Oh, right, Casey was dead. Mae had forgotten about that. Being dead probably sucked for Casey. He really enjoyed various aspects of being alive._

 _"_ _No, I didn't," Casey responded. "Mae, I was, like, clinically depressed. I couldn't really make myself enjoy anything towards the end of things." Casey sighed and shook his head._

 _"_ _Guess you couldn't've really known that. I mean, I didn't even know it. When the best shrink in town's Dr. Hank, you don't have a lot of hope for an accurate diagnosis."_

 _Mae didn't respond. She was mildly bugged that Casey had known what she was thinking. It was rude to just randomly bring up someone's private thoughts. Also, since when could Casey read minds?_

 _"_ _I ain't reading your mind, dummy," Casey groaned. "You're dreaming. I'm in your dream. I'm not part of your dream; I'm just a visitor. In a dream, there's not much difference between what you say and what you think."_

 _"_ _Oh, hey, that reminds me," Mae mused. "I had a bunch of dreams about you earlier this year. Just, like, us hanging out, or you giving me really bad advice. You didn't sound like you, though."_

 _Casey tossed his stick, marshmallow and all, into the fire. He'd given up on roasting it. There was an unfamiliar, forlorn look on Casey's face. Mae couldn't remember the last time he'd looked that sad. He hadn't even looked that sad when his dad died._

 _"_ _Mae, that wasn't me," Casey said. He looked at Mae out of the corner of his eye. Mae could almost see herself in the pure white of his dead eyes. "That wasn't my voice you were hearin', and you know it. You just wanted to believe it was me."_

 _In the distance, music played. Mae couldn't quite make it out. It was one instrument, playing a lonely solo._

 _"_ _What about now?" Mae asked hopefully. "Are you really you?"_

 _Casey shrugged. "I don't know," he said. "I don't even know if I ever was me. Maybe I'm really Casey's ghost, maybe I'm just some part of your brain tryin' to make you wake up. I'm more me than that thing that was using me voice, though."_

 **"** **$#~+?/,"** _said Andy Cullen._

 _"_ _Oh, shut up," Casey snapped. "I can't believe I got fed to somethin' that can't even talk."_

 _Mae looked over to Andy, who was still facing forward. He was motionless as the dead. Every so often, he'd flicker and be replaced by a patch of nothingness hanging in the air. Mae looked back over to Casey, who was starting to look fairly pale._

 _"_ _You got fed to Andy Cullen?" Mae asked, confused. "How? He doesn't even have a face, Casey."_

 _Casey slowly turned towards Mae. His expression was disbelieving, as if he'd just heard the most bafflingly stupid bullshit ever uttered. He started to talk, stopped, and seemed to consider what Mae had said. Then, he spoke._

 _"_ _Margaret, I…" Casey paused, holding up a finger to indicate he needed another moment to process Mae's idiocy. "I really hope I'm a ghost, and not part of your brain. Your brain is the worst, Mae."_

 _That was a little uncalled for, Mae thought. Casey was being awfully rude tonight._

 _"_ _Okay," Mae said. "If I haven't been hearing your voice lately, whose voice have I been hearing?"_

 **""** **\/#\/(*^*)[[[,"** _interrupted Andy. Casey shot him a dirty look before turning his attention back to Mae._

 _"_ _God, you see what I gotta put up with?" Casey asked. He threw his hands up in a 'what are you gonna do?' gesture. "Those assholes that killed me call that singing, can you believe it? Just a buncha shapes, is all that is."_

 _Mae nodded in agreement. The last time Andy had spoken to her, she hadn't understood him, either. She felt like she'd said something smart. Something she couldn't quite remember. Something, something, something._

 _"_ _The last few months have been kind of nuts, Casey," Mae mused. She looked up at the sky and let out a small sigh. "I went around trying to make amends to people. That didn't really lead to what I was hoping for. I ruined Gregg's plans for the future, and probably scarred poor Andy for life."_

 _"_ _You probably already did that," Casey said. "Y'know, when you assaulted him with a baseball bat."_

 _"_ _Softball bat," Mae corrected. "Softball. There's a difference, probably."_

 _The ethereal solo that drifted through the air suddenly became a duet. The instrument Mae hadn't been able to recognize was joined by the sound of a saxophone. Now that Mae listened, she could tell that the first instrument was a violin. Or a fiddle? Saleem said there was a difference between the two, and he probably knew better than Mae._

 _"_ _Why'd you go around makin' amends, anyway?" Casey asked._

 _Mae thought about it, and shrugged. "Jeez, it's been a while. I don't really remember. Selmers brought it up, and it sounded like a good idea at the time. I guess I just sorta wanted closure, you know?"_

 _Casey nodded solemnly. He turned around on the log he was sitting on until he was facing Mae. Looking at him, Mae thought he didn't look like the other ghosts she'd seen. He was more than an echo, but less than a living person._

 _"_ _Mae, I think I need to level with you," Casey said. "You're never gonna get a sense of closure for some of the stuff you've done, or some of the stuff you've seen."_

 _Mae stared at Casey, uncomprehending. While she didn't exactly disagree with what he'd said, it was still sort of depressing to hear it said out loud._

 _"_ _I didn't say it out loud," Casey corrected. "I said it in your dream. And what I said is still real; saying it out loud wouldn't make it any more real. This is something I thought you woulda learned by now."_

 _"_ _What?" Mae asked. "That nothing anyone does means anything?"_

 _Casey shook his head, and then stopped. He considered this, and then shrugged._

 _"_ _Well, yes," he said. "But aside from that. Last year, you saw how fast the world moves. You saw a buncha old men in a mine who couldn't let go of the past. You saw the truth of things, out in the hole at the center of everything. Do you get what I'm saying?"_

 _"_ _No," Mae said. "Not at all. My brain's feeling kind of scrambled."_

 _Casey chuckled. "Well, that's understandable. You passed out and got carried away by a guy with one arm. Your subconscious is prob'ly picking up all sorts of weird things."_

 _Mae nodded. That made a lot of sense. She didn't really understand what Casey was talking about, but it still made a lot of sense. Slowly, Mae rubbed the side of her head as she thought about what Casey meant._

 _"_ _What I meant was, you're getting hung up on this closure thing," Casey explained. "Did it ever occur to you that you went around makin' amends because you wanted to make up for somethin' you can't talk about?"_

 _"_ _No," Mae said. "I try to not think about why I do stuff. It gets confusing."_

 _"_ _What I mean is, you went lookin' for closure to make out for things you can never get closure for," Casey explained. "I'm talkin' about me and my parents. I'm talkin' about your aunt, and all the people who got buried in the mines. You've been letting this shit eat up at you from the inside, Mae."_

 _Mae frowned ponderously. "No," she said. "No, I dealt with that stuff. I'm going to talk to Dr. Bort about it. I had a weird dream where people jumped into a hole, and I talked to a janitor."_

 _"_ _Your problems don't get solved because you had one dream, Mae," Casey said. "And you don't get better just 'cause you've had one or two therapy sessions. You're takin' steps, Mae, but your problems aren't gonna go away overnight. Some of 'em will never go away at all."_

 _Mae sighed. She knew that already. This thing inside of her head wasn't going to get better. Not without medicine, at least. Mae had a feeling that, whatever was going on, it was more than just depression. That scared Mae; it scared her a lot. But she'd have to make peace with it, wouldn't she?_

 _"_ _I have to keep on living, or I'll die," Mae muttered._

 _Casey nodded in agreement. "Yep," he said. "And if you don't wake up soon, you'll die quicker than you think."_

 _The duet had grown into a full quartet. Mae sat there, listening to the familiar instruments that floated through the night air. There were no trees, or sky, or anything else. Just stars, all around them. The stars shined so bright that they turned the blackness between them into a cold, dark blue._

 _"_ _When Granddad died," Mae whispered, "I just felt numb for the longest time. I was young, I guess, and couldn't really process it. But then, one day, it just hit me that he was gone. Like, this guy who'd been part of my life since I was a baby was dead, and he wasn't coming back. I'd never see him again._

 _"_ _And, like, I guess it's the same here. With you and Aunt Mall Cop." Mae chuckled. "I guess I don't really handle loss all that well? I dunno. But, like, the world keeps changing, you know? And the changes aren't always good. We lose people, and it hurts; but the pain means it meant something."_

 _Mae paused. "God, I feel like I'm going over stuff I already said. I thought I'd learned this stuff already."_

 _"_ _You prob'ly did," Casey said. "But it's one thing to learn something, and it's another to put it into practice. 'Sides, you've been trying to convince yourself your problems aren't as bad as they are, you haven't really had time to work on all this."_

 _That was fair. On top of that, it had been a manic few months._

 _Andy Cullen had wandered off some time during Mae and Casey's talk. Mae didn't mind. She didn't know Andy that well, anyway. Plus, the lack of a face had really creeped Mae out. Mae wondered why those guys in the mind had worshipped Andy Cullen at all._

 _The fire was beginning to die down. Mae watched as the light slowly faded away, casting strange shadows on both her and Casey. How had Mae even gotten to this fire? And how had she met up with Casey? Something in the back of Mae's mind was nagging at her, but Mae wasn't sure what it was._

 _But Mae had a feeling that, after the fire died, she wouldn't see Casey again._

 _That realization set off a second one. Mae remembered what had happened before she came to the fire. She'd met Eide, who had choked her out. Mae was unconscious. This was a dream._

 _Why hadn't anyone told Mae this was a dream? That was really rude._

 _Mae couldn't feel angry, though. She was too sad to feel angry. The fire was dying down quickly now, its flame shrinking down until it was barely as bright as a matchstick. Before it died down completely, Mae turned to Casey. He was only barely there, now; just a vague shape in the air._

 _"_ _Hey, Casey?" Mae said. "You were my best friend."_

 _Casey was quiet. He smiled sadly at Mae, and nodded in return._

 _"_ _Thanks, Mae," he said. "You were my friend, too."_

* * *

When Mae woke up, there were tears in her eyes. She wasn't exactly surprised by this.

What was surprising, however, was that Mae wasn't dead. Not unless the afterlife was some dank, creepy basement. Mae wasn't sure she believed in an afterlife, though, so that theory didn't really hold out.

The basement was mostly empty, save for a boiler that was huddled up in the corner. This boiler didn't look anywhere near as friendly as Clanky, the boiler at Mrs. Miranda's house. Then again, Mae hadn't woken up in Mrs. Miranda's house after getting knocked out by a vengeful cultist. If that had happened, Clanky might have looked a lot scarier.

Mae slowly stood up. The room felt like it was spinning around her, and her legs weren't steady. Mae didn't know if that was fear, or if getting choked out had just gotten her dizzy. Mae looked around, trying to get her bearings.

The basement really was empty; a second inspection didn't change that. Aside from some wooden steps leading up to the basement door, and a small window on the opposite side of the room, Mae didn't see anything she could use to break out. Either Eide had planned for this, or he just didn't have a lot of clutter.

Where was Eide, anyway? Mae had to assume that this was his house. She doubted Eide had any friends who would let him keep someone in their basement.

Either way, Eide hadn't killed Mae yet. That was good. Mae had a feeling she knew why she was still alive, too. In Eide's mind, it would probably be a waste to just kill her. Mae guessed that Eide would want to sacrifice her to the Goat.

Did that mean Eide had found a way back into the mines?

Mae couldn't waste time thinking about that. She needed to waste time thinking about other stuff. Like escaping, or beating up Eide. Mae would feel bad about beating up a one-armed guy with a broken neck, but she'd probably get over it.

A noise from upstairs caught Mae's attention. Two people were talking; well, arguing, actually. Mae couldn't make out what they were saying through the insulated layer of wood and stone that separated them.

Curiously, Mae took a chance and wandered up the stairs to the basement door. She tried the doorknob. It was locked, of course. Mae didn't know why she expected different. But she hadn't come here just to check the doorknob. Mae placed her ear against the door and listened.

"… You can't dig a tunnel in a few days, Eide," said a strangely familiar voice. "Especially not alone. You're gonna have to be more patient with me. I need time."

"You've had three months!" Eide cried out. "What the hell is taking so long? You're just digging a hole! It's just rocks!"

The second voice sighed. Mae recognized that sort of sigh. It was a noise people made when they were talking to someone who didn't understand anything about anything. Mae heard that noise a lot.

"Okay, I'm not gonna waste both our time by explaining the fine details of mining," the second voice said. "Why're you suddenly in such a rush? Their bodies aren't going anywhere, Eide. We got plenty of time to gather whatever remains are left."

Mae didn't need much deductive reasoning to know what they were talking about. It sounded like Eide was having someone else try and find a way back into the mine. Whoever it was, if they were talking about gathering someone's remains, it was probably safe to assume they knew about the cult.

Eide didn't seem like the sort of person to go out of his way to give someone a proper burial. If he wanted into the mine, Mae was certain it was so he could gain access to the hole the cult had used for their sacrifices.

So, this other guy knew about the cult, but Eide was lying to them? Mae didn't bother wondering what that was all about. She was too busy being kidnapped.

"Don't effing question me, Leon," Eide snapped. Mae felt her heart skip a beat when she heard that name. Leon? Cole's dad? The guy with the special hammer?

Mae guessed that confirmed a few suspicions she had. Still, it was a bit of a shock.

"Okay, okay. Don't throw a tantrum or anything," Leon said. Mae could practically hear him rolling his eyes. "Look, why don't you use some of that money you've got lying around and rent some machines? That'll speed things up."

Mae heard Eide groan. "Yeah, okay," he grumbled. "Okay, okay. Lazybones."

"Yeah," Leon quipped. "I'm so lazy. I need mining equipment to dig through solid stone. Old age has truly robbed me of my work ethic."

"You said it; not me," Eide said. Mae noticed with some alarm that his voice was coming closer. A pair of feet trudging along a hardwood floor began to approach the basement door that Mae had her ear pressed up against. Mae suddenly felt dizzy; panicking, she stumbled backwards and fell down the stairs, landing on the cold stone floor with a thud.

Mae clutched the back of her head. The pain wasn't too bad; she'd fallen from higher places. Mae could still barely hear Eide talk. It sounded like he was right behind the door.

"Huh? Oh, it was nothing," Eide said, responding to some unheard question. "Nothing. Just some rats in the basement, probably. Or… owls. Probably."

Mae noticed with some disbelief that Eide was somehow a worse liar than she was. How the hell had this guy been a member of a secret cult?

"Dinner sounds good," Eide continued. "You go on ahead. I'll meet you at the Clik Clak. I gotta take care of that owl."

Mae listened to the silence that followed. Leon had probably left Eide to deal with his imaginary owls. Mae bit her lip. She almost expected Eide to fling the door open and attack her.

There was a loud, angry knock on the basement door. Mae winced at the sound of it. In the back of her mind, the noise of metal against metal was eating away at her consciousness.

"Go back to sleep, you little shit," Eide snarled through the thick, wooden door. "Ain't no one who can hear you out here. Ain't no way for you to get out. I've made sure of that. Been planning this since I got outta the hospital. You're going to the Goat, girl. You hear me?"

Mae frowned. "You can't see it, but I'm showing you my favorite finger," she said as she waved a familiar gesture at the door.

Eide grumbled something. Mae sat up as she heard his feet trudge away. There was the sound of a door opening and closing. After a few minutes, Mae knew she was alone. Either Eide was stupid, or he was just confident that Mae couldn't get out. Mae supposed he could be both.

Mae walked up the stairs once more and tested the door. It was sturdy, alright. Mae seriously doubted she'd be able to knock the thing down. She didn't have a baseball bat to beat the shit out of Eide's furnace, either.

Mae looked over her shoulder at the small basement window that looked to the outside. It was right next to the boiler. Mae could probably climb up that thing and open the window. But then what? There was no way she'd be able to slip through that thing; not with her big, nightmare head.

It was kind of the only option Mae had, though. Eide had cleared out the basement of pretty much anything that could be used for an escape plan. The only thing Mae could think of to do was open the window and call for help.

With a sigh, Mae walked down the stairs and approached the boiler. Hesitantly, she reached out and touched it. To her surprise, it wasn't hot at all. Had Eide turned it off? Or was it just an antique, here for show?

Whatever the reason, it was no obstacle. With a grunt, Mae leaped up onto the pipes and shimmied along towards the window. With some effort, Mae stretched her arm out and began to push against the rectangle of glass. She could barely reach it, but after a few times, she managed to nudge it open.

Warm summer air hit Mae's hand. It was scorching outside, but Mae didn't care. Anything was better than the feeling of the cold basement.

"Hello!" Mae screamed out. She heard no reply but the sound of birds and insects.

"Is anyone out there?!" Mae said, screaming louder. "I'm locked up in some weirdo's basement!"

Again, no response. Mae sighed and pulled her hand away from the window, which stayed open. Of course there was no response. Eide lived out in the woods, didn't he? There was probably no one around for miles who could hear Mae call for help. All Mae had managed to do was hurt her throat.

Mae winced as the reality of her situation began to weigh in on her. She wouldn't panic. Panic wouldn't help her. Mae just needed to wait for Eide to give her an opportunity to escape, right? He was injured, and not all there in the head. It was only a matter of time before he slipped up.

Barring a miracle, that was Mae's only hope.

"Hi, Mae," said a very familiar voice from the other side of the window.

Mae blinked once, then blinked again. She stared out the window at a pair of black canvas sneakers that had appeared. In her shock, Mae almost didn't know what to say. In the end, there was only one thing she could say:

"Germ?!" She cried out.

"Yep," said Germ's voice. "I was hanging out in the woods with my woods friends. I heard you yelling. 'Sup?"

"Oh my god, Germ," Mae said, laughing. This was the second time Germ had appeared out of nowhere to save Mae's ass. "Where the hell have you been, dude? You disappeared. We were all worried about you!"

"I was on vacation," Germ replied.

Mae opened her mouth to reply, but confusion stole her words away. "Vacation?" She repeated. "What? Dude, you just straight up vanished for, like, a month! Why didn't you tell anyone you were on vacation?"

"I don't have to tell you guys everything," Germ replied.

Well, he was right about that. Mae couldn't really argue with Germ on that one. Germ was kind of aloof, anyway; him not telling everyone he was going on a vacation was par for the course. Still, Mae thought they'd, like, bonded and shit. She'd been scared that Germ had gotten serial murdered.

Wait. Mae felt like she was forgetting something.

Oh, right, the kidnapping!

"Germ, I need help," Mae said. "I need you to, like, find some way to get me out of here. Like, get me a saw, and I can cut a hole in the floor to escape. Also, I guess I'd need a ladder?" Mae paused. "Oh, and, like, some juice or something. My mouth's super dry right now."

"Um. Okay," Germ said. He didn't question why Mae was in the basement. He just walked off to go get Mae some help.

Once again, Germ had come out of nowhere to save Mae's life. That was… kind of odd. Mae wasn't about to look a gift bird in the mouth, though. Whether it was just a coincidence, or Germ was some sort of trickster spirit who could sense when his friends were in danger, it didn't matter. He was a fricking hero.

Before too long, Germ returned to the window. Once again, all that was visible were his canvas sneakers. His arrival was accompanied by a strange hissing noise. Mae couldn't exactly place it, though it did sound familiar.

"Hi, Mae," Germ said. "I got something to save you."

"Oh my God, Germ," Mae said, letting loose a sigh of relief. "Germ, I could kiss you right now."

Germ was quiet for a moment. "Okay," he said. "Well, here ya go."

Mae watched as something long and cylindrical was dropped into the basement from the window. Suddenly, the hissing noise was inside of the room Mae was in. It took Mae a second to process this. Mae stared down at the red tube with the long, burning fuse attached to it.

"Oh, shit," Mae grumbled.

Mae hurried jumped down from the furnace, scooped up the stick of dynamite, and threw it in the direction of the basement door. The stick landed on the top step, rolled, and then fell onto the second. The long fuse was still burning, but it was burning quick. Mae guessed it was a good thing Germ hadn't picked something with a shorter fuse.

"Germ, warn someone before you give them a lit stick of dynamite!" Mae screamed. She huddled up to the wall opposite the stairs.

She couldn't hear Germ's response. The explosion was too loud.


	22. Eide

Eide was more fortunate than most. He was a member of the richest family in Possum Springs; the Shreigeists. Eide's family was so wealthy that they could afford to just donate a house to the Possum Springs historical society. It wouldn't be an exaggeration to say that without the Shreigeist family, Possum Springs would have been a husk of what it was.

It wasn't like anyone cared about that, though. A rich family in Possum Springs didn't change the fact that Possum Springs was basically a ghost town. The Shreigeist family's business ventures had mostly closed down, and their main source of income was from people renting their land.

The days when the Shreigeist family was a major player in Deep Hollow County had long passed. When Eide was young, he'd listen to his grandfather tell stories about when the town was successful and prosperous, before unions and natural disasters had ruined everything. As he got older, those stories made Eide feel nostalgic for a time he'd never been alive for.

Time passed, and Eide's family slowly passed away. His parents had been quite old already when they had him, and they died before Eide had turned 28. Eide had no siblings, or any other relations to keep him company in his family's home. He was completely and utterly alone.

Gradually, Eide stopped leaving the house. He would spend day after day in the living room or in his office, watching soap operas and browsing the internet. Time began to drift away from him. The world took on a gray hue, as if everything had had the life drained form it.

Eide wanted his old life back. He wanted his parents, and he wanted to hear stories about the past. He wanted to go back to working for his father, when he'd had less stress about managing his family's properties in town.

And if Eide couldn't get the past back, he just wanted the world to stop.

Then, one night, Eide came home from the Food Donkey with a six-pack of beer. Eide had never been much of a drinker, but that night he wanted to forget the world. And so, he drank until he fell asleep.

And then he had the dream. Eide heard Him for the first time.

At first, the dreams hadn't made sense to Eide. They were echoes of the past, but not echoes that were familiar to Eide. Gradually, though, the dreams began to drive Eide out of his home. He became fearful, irrationally paranoid of ghosts or spirits. And so, Eide had decided to investigate to find the source of these dreams.

That was how Eide found the hole at the center of everything.

Looking back, Eide imagined that the Goat had picked him because of what He saw in Eide's head. That feeling of emptiness, of missing some great thing from the past, was a patch of darkness that attracted the Goat.

Hopelessness was like a great, big, black hole in the center of one's mind. It was exactly like the hole that the Goat dwelled in. And so, He sang out to those like Eide, because they were the most familiar.

At least, that's what Eide theorized. He was probably completely wrong. Aside from the Goat's hunger, nothing else about Him was really understandable. The Goat existed at a level that couldn't quite be comprehended.

When Eide's investigations led him to the mines, he met the men who fed the Goat. There were more of them back then, and quite a few left from when they'd first started. They seemed shocked to see Eide, but their leader had vouched for him. He'd said the Goat had wanted to speak with Eide; said that Eide had been brought there for a reason.

They explained what they did. They rounded up the vagrants, the delinquents, the parasites; and they put them to use. They were keeping Possum Springs alive, making it healthy again. They were doing all of the things Eide had dreamed of.

But Eide had still been scared. He hadn't even believed in the Goat, not really. Eide had thought that the men in the mine were crazy, driven mad by underground gases or various traumas.

Eide soon changed his mind, however. It was hard to stay skeptical with Him singing in your dreams like He did.

It was difficult, at first. Eide didn't have the stomach for the sacrifices that had to be made. As time went on, however, and as he heard the Goat in his dreams, Eide became more and more certain of what had to be done. Soon, he was the one in charge of collecting sacrifices. He became quite good at stalking the intended meals for the Goat.

Things went on like that for years. Eide found purpose in his new job serving the Goat. The others didn't appreciate the Goat like Eide did, but he couldn't blame them. The Goat hadn't taken a shine to them like it had to him. For the others, feeding the Goat was an unpleasant chore.

For Eide, it was a privilege. He had been selected as the Goat's favorite. None of the others understood the Goat like Eide did.

That's what Eide believed, at least. But last Halloween, he became much less certain.

He'd slipped up; Eide couldn't make an excuse. Eide had thought he was alone when he snatched up that teenager during Harfest. He had no idea that the Borowski girl was watching him from just out of view. By the time he realized he'd been seen, the kid was chasing after him.

Thankfully, Molly had been there to distract her niece. Eide had been able to carry the kid back to the mine, and the Goat had been fed.

But that night, in Eide's dreams, he wasn't alone. The Goat wasn't singing to just him anymore.

The Borowski girl had caught the Goat's attention. Eide didn't know why. Had she been like him? Had the world been slipping away from her, like it slipped away from Eide?

Eide couldn't see how that was possible. She was just a kid, after all. She had her parents to take care of everything for her. She was carefree enough that she'd been able to drop out of college. Just like most kids these days, she didn't seem to take anything seriously. It was as if she was entitled to her own way of life.

How could someone like that be worthy of the Goat's attention?

Why would the Goat even need to sing to someone else, anyway? Eide did a good job. He was faithful to the Goat, and more willing than the others to do what needed to be done. Eide was worthy. But someone else receiving the Goat's attention threw all of that into question.

Then, as if that wasn't enough, she spat in the Goat's face. That night in the mine, when Eide had been shot by her idiot friend, Mae had rejected the Goat. She'd spoken to it in her waking times, and had basically told the Goat to eff off.

Eide had felt her rejection inside of his mind. He had dreamed it. Underneath that pile of rocks and rubble, Eide had only been able to dream. The pain had been too great for him to remain conscious. There was only darkness, and the suffocating pressure of the stone.

Eide would have died, if it wasn't for the Goat.

Everyone else had died. They died because they took the Goat for granted. It was sad, but it was the reality of things. They'd brought it on themselves.

Eide didn't remember much after the Goat saved him. Mostly, he remembered his dreams.

Or, rather, he remembered the Borowski girl's dreams.

The Goat was still trying to sing to her. Eide had no idea why; she clearly didn't deserve it. But it didn't matter. Eide listened to the Goat's songs, and followed the melody. He saw what Borowski saw, in dreams and in waking hours. And with every dream Eide saw, he grew more and more disgusted.

Eide had wanted to lash out. He wanted to strangle the life out of the girl. But the Goat wouldn't want that. The Goat was starving in the mines, and He was crying out for someone to feed Him. Mae Borowski wouldn't heed that call.

Eide would, though. He wasn't sure how, but he'd make sure Mae Borowski paid for the way she'd insulted the Goat.

Getting back into the mines was going to be the hardest part. Eide was well-off, but he couldn't exactly afford to hire a whole mining team. And even if he could, the mines had been shut down. He could get in trouble for trying to get into them.

Luckily, there was a workaround. Out of everyone who'd been involved in the mine, there was at least one person who hadn't been there on the night of the cave-in. To top it off, that man used to be a miner.

When Eide had contacted this man, he'd had to lie to him. Eide said he wanted to get into the mines to collect the bodies of everyone who'd died in the cave-in. The former miner, whose name was Leon, apparently had lost interest in feeding the Goat some time ago, and Eide knew he couldn't tell him the real reason he needed to get in the mines.

Leon didn't need to know what Eide had planned.

The most difficult part was isolating the Borowski girl, but once again, the Goat provided. Eide used the connection they shared with the Goat. He reached out into Borowski's dreams and spoke to her in another voice; planted seeds of ideas and places. He had the glimmer. He could do all sorts of things.

Of course, Eide had no idea if his plan was working until the day Borowski and her friend showed up at Possum Leap. After that, Eide kept a close eye on Borowski. He followed her around town. He saw her talk with her friends, and saw her run through the woods with that crossbow-wielding psychopath.

All in all, Eide wasn't impressed.

Well, whatever. It had worked out, hadn't it? Eide had been persistent enough to push Borowski to visit Possum Leap again. This time, she'd come alone. She'd almost managed to get away from him, but Eide had caught up with her.

And now, she was locked up in his basement. Eide would keep her under a close watch until Leon was done digging his way into the mine. When that happened, Eide would carry her emaciated body to the hole and feed her to the Goat.

After that? Well, there were her friends, of course. Eide hadn't forgotten about them. But grabbing them would be trickier, given they weren't connected to the Goat.

That was a plan for the future, though.

For now, Eide had something more important to worry about: he had a guest.

For some unfathomable reason, Leon had dropped by. He could have simply called, or sent an email. But no; for some reason, the dumbass was now in Eide's cabin.

Eide supposed that Leon had dropped by out of sympathy. Maybe Leon thought Eide needed the company, and simply sending an email would be impersonal. Leon had made the foolish assumption that Eide wanted to see someone.

Eide was too tired for a guest. He'd spent nearly an hour carrying the Borowski girl up from Possum Leap, to his cabin. Kidnapping someone was a lot trickier when you only had one arm. On top of that, Eide wasn't exactly in shape after his long stay in the hospital. He'd had to stop to catch his breath once or twice.

After tossing Borowski into the basement and latching the door, all Eide wanted to do was relax and watch TV.

But no; that was asking too much, apparently. And now, Leon and Eide were both in Eide's living room. They sat opposite each other; Leon on an old, green couch, and Eide sitting in his grandfather's old chair.

Eide didn't waste any time getting down to business. "What do you want, Lee?" He asked humorously. The prosthetic arm Eide wore dangled limply off the side of his chair. Eide's shoulder still hurt from wearing that bogus sling.

"Well," Leon said, slow and polite, "I'm just wondering when you're gonna give me my next payment. You promised me you'd have it last week, Eide."

Eide sighed and sank back into his chair. The old thing was still damn comfortable. A lifetime's worth of sitting had left a warm impression in it.

"You'll get your money once you've made more progress on that tunnel," Eide said. "You're still nowhere near a tunnel or anything."

Leon seemed to frown. Eide didn't really care enough to read his expression closely.

"Look, Eide, I'm not just doing this out of the kindness of my heart," he said sternly. "I'm doing this because I need more money; especially now that Cole's back from college. I've got a whole other mouth to feed."

Eide had to resist the urge to roll his eyes. If Leon needed money, it was his own fault for not being employed.

"Effing hell, Leon," Eide grumbled. "Look, if you can get into the tunnels in the next few days, I'll give you a bonus. Okay? You've been taking your sweet time with it; it wouldn't hurt you to actually do some work."

Eide thought his reasonable offer would end the argument then and there. Instead, inexplicably, an expression of impatient anger appeared on Leon's face.

"I keep telling you, you can't dig a tunnel in a few days, Eide," Leon snapped. His anger caught Eide by surprise. Why was he upset? Eide was the one who should have been upset. "Especially not alone. You're gonna have to be more patient with me. I need time."

Now it was Eide's turn to be angry. Nobody told Eide Shreigeist how to manage his business. Leon was just some blue collar bumpkin. What did he know? If Eide thought he could dig his way into the mines by now, he could.

"You've had three months!" Eide snapped. "What the hell is taking so long? You're just digging a hole! It's just rocks!"

Leon closed his eyes and sighed, as if he were speaking with an especially frustrating child. His expression made Eide want to lash out. Most things made him want to lash out lately. Eide squeezed his arm rest, digging his fingers into the upholstery.

"Okay," Leon said patiently, "I'm not gonna waste both our time by explaining the fine details of mining."

That was good. If Eide heard any more excuses, he felt like he was going to slap Leon around with his prosthetic arm. Despite his irritation, that image brought a smile to Eide's sullen face. There was something absurd about it that made Eide want to giggle.

Leon didn't seem to notice Eide's blossoming levity, and instead continued questioning him.

"Why're you suddenly in such a rush?" Leon asked. "Their bodies aren't going anywhere, Eide. We got plenty of time to gather whatever remains are left."

Eide felt his good mood trickle away. Leon's questions made Eide experience a twinge of pain in the back of his head. The pain throbbed, causing Eide to close his eyes and pinch the bridge of his nose. He'd been having bad migraines ever since the mine incident. Those were the least of his problems, though.

The story Eide had given to Leon was such bullshit that Eide wondered how anyone could believe it. Why in the world would he bother collecting the others' bodies? They were dead. They weren't going to care what happened to their corpses.

Plus, if they'd had any loyalty at all, they would have fed themselves to the Goat.

"Don't effing question me, Leon," Eide growled. He'd meant for it to sound threatening, but Leon just looked sort of annoyed.

"Okay, okay," Leon said, in a 'have-it-your-way' sort of tone. "Don't throw a tantrum or anything.

"Look, why don't you use some of that money you've got lying around and rent some machines? That'll speed things up."

Eide groaned. He felt the pain in his head begin to throb harder and harder. Why was Leon telling him how to spend his money? What did Leon know about money, anyway? The man had been a miner, an occupation not knowns for its business sense.

"Yeah, okay," Eide conceded. "Okay, okay. Lazybones." With a grunt of exertion, he got up from his chair. If he was going to keep talking to Leon, he needed some more pain meds.

"Yeah," Leon said sarcastically. "I'm so lazy. I need mining equipment to dig through solid stone. Old age has truly robbed me of my work ethic."

"You said it; not me," Eide grumbled. He kept his medicine in the kitchen, which was adjoined to the living room. The old wooden floor creaked under his feet as he walked past the basement door.

A series of loud thumping noises from behind that door made Eide freeze in place.

The throbbing in Eide's head was momentarily forgotten. The girl was awake. Already. Eide was certain she'd be out for another hour or so. She was small, after all. Didn't small people stay unconscious for longer? Eide was pretty sure he'd read that somewhere.

Would she be stupid enough to call out for help? The only other person in the cabin was Leon. He might have given up on feeding the Goat, but Eide was fairly confident he could explain the situation to Leon if things got out of hand. Leon would see reason; he was a reasonable guy, more or less.

"The hell was that?" Leon asked, mildly startled.

"Huh?" Eide asked. He tried to sound casual, as if the noise wasn't tied into a crime he'd committed. "Oh, it was nothing. Nothing. Just some rats in the basement, probably. Or… owls. Probably."

Eide looked over his shoulder at Leon. For some reason, Leon didn't look like he completely believed Eide's totally plausible lie. That was weird. Thankfully, it also looked like Leon didn't care enough to press any further.

"Okay, weirdo," he said. Then, after a moment, he asked, "Hey, you hungry? Let's go get dinner. It'd do you good to get out of the house."

Dinner? Why the hell would Eide want dinner? He was too busy to eat. Even if he did want to eat, what made Leon think Eide would want to have dinner with him? Eide only put up with Leon because of what he could do for him.

Then again, getting Leon out of the house was probably smart. The Borowski girl was quiet now, but who knew how long that would last? The longer Leon stuck around, the more likely he'd discover something. Eide would have to take one for the team and leave the house.

"Dinner sounds good," Eide said tiredly. His head hurt too much for him to act like he actually cared. "You go on ahead. I'll meet you at the Clik Clak."

Then, turning his head towards the basement door, Eide said, "I gotta take care of that owl."

Eide didn't hear whatever Leon said in response. He was entirely focused on the door. He almost wanted to fling it open and attack the Borowski shit. Despite his anger, however, Eide knew he likely couldn't take the kid in a straight-up fight. He could barely get out of bed on his own.

Instead, Eide stared intently on the door. As soon as he heard Leon leave the cabin, Eide slammed his hand against it with as much force as he could muster. He hit it so hard the sound reverberated through the cabin, and a dull spasm of pain went up Eide's arm.

"Go back to sleep, you little shit," Eide snarled. "Ain't no one who can hear you out here. Ain't no way for you to get out. I've made sure of that."

A small, prideful smile spread across Eide's face. "Been planning this since I got outta the hospital. You're going to the Goat, girl. You hear me?"

The girl responded. From the sound of things, she was at the bottom of the stairs. Eide couldn't quite make out whatever it was she was saying, though. She was probably begging for mercy, or lamenting her fate, or whatever people did when they knew they were going to die.

Eide felt a little disappointed that he couldn't hear her misery, though. He muttered angrily to himself, glaring at the door. Eide lifted his good hand and raised one finger in a fairly rude gesture. He found himself hoping that there really were rats in his basement, and that the rats would chew Borowski to pieces.

On the other hand, Eide didn't want to have to call an exterminator, so he hoped there weren't rats after all.

Eide winced as another pulse of pain shot through his brain. He didn't want to go out to dinner with Leon. Not only did Eide not like Leon in the slightest, but leaving the house while Borowski was in the basement was a bad idea. Eide was confident she couldn't break down the door, but he didn't want to chance it.

There was a simple solution, of course. Eide could just not go to the diner. Leon would be alone like an idiot, while Eide would be at home like a smart guy. The idea of Leon sitting alone in some booth, awkwardly waiting for someone who'd never come, made Eide smile again.

Leon had been right that Eide needed to get out of the house, though. The inside of his cabin, while pleasantly familiar, wasn't exactly helpful to Eide's growing malaise.

With a weary sigh, Eide looked around the cabin. The basement was locked. Even if Borowski got out, she could only leave the house through the front door, or a window. If Eide stayed close by, he'd hear her try to escape.

"It's probably fine," Eide whispered to himself. "Probably fine."

Eide slowly trudged to the front door and pushed it open. He stepped out onto his cabin's front porch and breathed in the hot summer air. Before he sat down, he smartly decided to lock the front door behind him. Now Borowski's only option was a window.

There was always the possibility she could find a knife from the kitchen. Also, though it was unlikely, she could conceivably open Eide's gun locker and get his hunting rifle out. It was also possible she could find where Eide kept his ammo (Stored away from his gun locker, for safety's sake.)

No. No, Eide was overthinking things. Borowski wouldn't be getting out of the basement any time soon.

Eide knew he couldn't keep her there indefinitely, of course. Due to Leon's poor work ethic, it would likely take some time before Eide gained access to the hole. In the meantime, however, there was an old shack near the mines that Eide knew would do the job of containing Borowski. He could move her there some time in the next few days.

The pain in Eide's head began to subside, and the young landowner took a seat in the old rocking chair that decorated his front porch. His prosthetic arm hanging off limply to the side, Eide found himself drifting off. He didn't quite fall asleep, but he was in a restful midpoint between wake and slumber.

That's when he heard the explosion.

Eide's drowsiness was gone in an instant. With a start, he leapt from his chair and looked around frantically. He could smell smoke. Birds were flying away from Eide's cabin in a panic. The whole world seemed to be full of the silent aftermath of the explosion.

Eide rushed to his front door and grabbed the doorknob. For a moment, he forgot it was locked. In a panic, he fumbled with the lock and yanked the door open.

He stood there in the doorframe, staring slack jawed at the basement door that stood at the opposite end of the cabin.

Or, rather, the smoking hole where the basement door had been.

The door had been blown off of its top two hinged, and was hanging off to the side at a crooked angle. The hardwood floor, the walls, the ceiling; they'd all been blackened by whatever had done this. Chunks of wood and debris littered the floor.

A hand sudden shot up from the bottom of the doorframe. The hand grabbed onto the floor; a set of claws digging into the wood, gripping it as a second hand shot up.

Eide was too shocked to do anything. He watched, baffled, as Mae Borowski slowly pulled herself up through the doorframe. The young delinquent tumbled out onto the floor, wincing slightly. After a moment, she noticed Eide, and soon stood herself up.

"Oh," she said, mildly surprised. "Hey, dude."


	23. Band Together

"Oh," Mae said, mildly surprised. "Hey, dude."

Eide was standing in the open front door of his cabin, staring at Mae. Mae had just managed to climb out of the basement after Germ's dynamite blew the door open. The explosion, unfortunately, had taken most of the stairs with it. Not only that, but Mae's head was ringing. She made a mental note to never set off an explosion in close quarters again, unless it'd be cool.

Mae was a bit too rattled to be scared. She wanted to lie down forever, but that wasn't an option. Slowly, Mae stood up, her legs wobbling beneath her.

Eide wasn't doing anything. He looked shocked, speechless. His mouth was hanging open, occasionally moving as he struggled to find something to say. Eventually, he settled on something.

"You blew up my door!" Eide screamed, horrified. He stammered, too outraged to form a coherent sentence.

"Yeah, sorry," Mae said awkwardly. She rubbed the back of her head as she stood there. "I really needed to get out, and my friend had dynamite. I…" Mae trailed off as she began to remember why she had been in the basement in the first place.

"Wait. No, I'm not sorry. You effing kidnapped me!" Mae cried.

"You blew up my door!" Eide retorted. He gestured to the door with his good arm, then to the floor. Various not-quite-words kept escaping his mouth. He seemed to be having a hard time wrapping his head around this. "That was completely uncalled for!"

Mae almost couldn't believe what she was hearing. "Uncalled for?!" She repeated. "You were gonna feed me to your freaky goat!"

"This house is older than I am!" Eide practically screamed. He gestured to the burn marks on the floor, ceiling, and walls. "Look at what you did! Am I going to have to replace all of this? I honestly don't know! God damn it!"

Mae was about to respond, but she quickly realized that probably wasn't smart. She needed to get out of here. Mae briefly wondered if she could, like, tackle Eide or something. She was sturdy, and he looked like he was some sort of skeleton. Then again, he'd had enough strength to knock her out and carry her away.

Luckily, Mae was soon provided with a distraction.

"Hey, Mae," said the familiar voice of Germ. Mae watched as Eide spun around to face the source of the voice. Germ stood on the ground porch, directly behind Eide. As always, Germ looked fairly unperturbed. "How'd the dynamite work out for you? It sounded pretty loud, huh?"

Mae didn't waste any time. A wave of dolphins swam through Mae's body. As if on instinct, Mae felt herself charge forward towards Eide. With his back turned, he didn't see her coming until it was too late.

With a loud, satisfying thud, Mae collided with Eide's back, sending him falling to the floor. Mae's momentum carried her along with him, and she landed on her kidnapper's back. Despite successfully tackling him, Mae was a little disappointed. She'd meant to do, like, a cool lariat, or a clothesline or something.

Well, wrestlers can't be choosers.

While Eide was still stunned, Mae did the only other thing she could think of to keep him down. Mae reached out and grabbed the back of his head. Mae gripped his scalp as tight as she could, and lifted his head up off of the floor. Then, with as much strength as Mae could muster, she pushed Eide's face into the hardwood floor.

There was a satisfying _thwump_ noise, and a cry of pain from Eide.

Mae didn't stick around to appreciate her work, however. She hopped off of Eide's prone body and ran down the cabin's hallway.

Germ was standing in the front door, watching everything with a look of mild surprise on his face. Mae didn't slow down when she reached the porch, and instead yelled at him over her shoulder as she ran.

"Germ!" She cried. "Bike! Now!"

"Uh, okay," Germ said, mildly nonplussed. "Gimme a second."

That caught Mae off-guard. Did Germ not realize what was going on? Now wasn't the time to catch your breath, or worse, check to see if Eide was okay.

Soon, however, Germ was running after Mae. That was a relief.

Mae looked over her shoulder to make sure Eide wasn't following them. To her surprise, he actually wasn't. Mae didn't think she'd hit him that hard. Then again, his neck was in a brace. Maybe Mae had, like, re-broke his neck somehow.

For some reason, that made Mae feel a little guilty. Why the hell was that? She'd been kidnapped by that prick. Mae felt like she should be happy if he got seriously injured.

Whatever. Mae didn't want to waste time thinking about things that didn't matter. She kept running, running; her whole body began to burn, and her legs began to ache. But she had to get to Germ's bike. They had to get back into town. They—

"We're going the wrong way," Germ called out.

Mae stopped. For some reason, she wasn't surprised. This was the sort of thing that happened to Mae a lot.

Mae took a moment to catch her breath before turning and asking Germ where his bike was. When she turned, however, she was caught off-guard by something. Mae now understood why Germ had asked Mae to wait up, but this only raised a few more questions.

Because Germ was carrying Eide's prosthetic arm.

* * *

"How'd the dynamite work for you? It sounded pretty loud, huh?"

Eide wasn't having a good day. Oh, sure, it had started off good. Eide had watched his soaps, kidnapped someone, and taken a nice nap. Unfortunately, things were quickly going downhill.

Eide felt like he knew who to blame, too. While Borowski stood in front of the blown-open basement door, Eide turned to see an unfamiliar face standing on the front porch of his cabin. Whoever this person was, they didn't emote much. Either that, or they were involved in this sort of situation a lot and didn't see any reason to act surprised.

Before Eide could question who this little goblin person was, or how in the world they'd managed to hand dynamite to his prisoner, the sound of footsteps on wood interrupted him.

Something short and sturdy impacted with the small of Eide's back. The force of the tackle sent Eide falling forward. He landed on his face, and a spasm of pain jolted through his body. His head pounded, and his neck felt as if it was on fire. Something wet trickled down over his lips and Eide realized with some discomfort that his nose was broken.

Eide felt the weight on his back move. He heard Borowski run forward, out the front door. Every cell in Eide's brain screamed at him to get up and chase after her, but he was in a daze of pain. He needed painkillers. He needed the Goat. He needed anything to make himself feel better.

Borowski yelled something at her accomplice, and even as she did so her voice grew distant.

With as much effort as Eide could manage, he lifted his head up. When he did, he found himself face-to-face with the kid who had helped Borowski escape. The kid's face was expressionless. He was staring straight into Eide's eyes. For the first time since Eide had first met the Goat, Eide felt truly and deeply unsettled.

"Kill you," Eide struggled to say. His head was swimming in pain, and he couldn't quite get the words out. It came out sounding like he was saying 'kiyu'. He tried to speak again, but only slurred his words more.

Either way, the kid didn't seem intimidated. Instead, he began walking towards Eide.

"Stay way," Eide grumbled. The blood coming from his nose dripped down onto the floor. Eide could taste iron in his mouth. Were his gums bleeding, too? His migraine was back, too. And the kid was still coming closer. "Stay way!" Eide screamed.

The kid stopped. He looked right into Eide's eyes, his expression inscrutable. Then, he spoke.

"Hi," he said. "I'm Germ Warfare. Is your arm fake?"

Germ Warfare? What kind of name was Germ Warfare? Was it a nickname? Was this kid in a gang, or something? If he was, was Eide going to get shot?

Germ didn't wait for Eide to answer. Instead, he walked over to Eide's side, where his prosthetic arm laid behind him uselessly. Eide, still unable to stand, looked back at Germ, and saw him take the fake arm in his hands.

Germ began to pull. Eide watched in confusion as the kid tried to free Eide's prosthetic arm from the harness it was attached to. It was just a plastic thing, though, so the kid didn't have to pull very hard. There was a snapping noise, and soon Eide's false arm had been removed.

The kid slung the arm over his shoulder, carrying it like a trophy.

"Thank you," he said, and then left.

Eide stared at the empty space where Germ had been standing. What the hell had just happened? Who was that kid? Did Borowski have more friends like him? Eide shut his eyes, trying to manage his pain as best he could.

It was no use. Everything had gone south, and the stress was making his migraine worse and worse. Borowski had escaped, and she was apparently friends with a dangerous criminal. A dangerous criminal who would just casually take your arm, and who apparently had ready access to effing dynamite.

Germ Warfare was clearly someone who should be avoided at all costs.

With as much effort as he could muster, Eide pushed himself up onto his knees with his remaining arm. He noticed that his face had left a red, bloody imprint on the hardwood floor. For some reason, the sight of it made Eide laugh. He could just barely see the impression of his nose and mouth in that red stain.

Eide stood up on shaky legs, a smile on his face.

Okay. This was good, this was fine. This was nothing Eide couldn't handle.

Sure, Borowski had escaped after only a few hours of captivity. And sure, maybe Leon was nowhere near close to getting into the mine. That was fine. It was all fine! Eide wasn't worried at all. He was the Goat's favorite, wasn't he? The Goat had put His faith in Eide, and that kind of faith didn't go misplaced.

Eide wiped his nose off on his sleeve. The pain in his neck and his head was momentarily forgotten as he carefully weighed his options.

The Goat needed His sacrifice. Eide couldn't just kill Borowski and her friends, could he? The thought was tempting, but if the Goat didn't get fed, then Possum Springs was going to die.

A thought occurred to Eide. It was an unshakeable, undoubtable revelation; an epiphany.

So what if Possum Springs died?

Possum Springs wasn't what it once was. Hell, Eide had never even seen the town when it was alive and prosperous. It was already basically a corpse. Abandoned buildings and factories were all throughout the town, like failing organs in a dying body.

Clearly, the Goat didn't really care about what happened to Possum Springs. And if He did care, that was no problem. It was only a matter of time until Leon got into the mines, and then the sacrifices could start all over again. The Goat would get fed, and He could save this town if He wanted.

But in the meantime, there was no reason to keep Borowski and her friends alive.

Eide took in a deep breath, smelling the blood in his nose in the process. He could deal with that later. For now, he needed to get something for the pain.

In the kitchen, Eide rummaged through his cupboards for the painkillers he'd been prescribed. He took one of the pills with a glass of water. Then, after considering it a bit, he took a second pill. Eide didn't know if taking two pills would help the pain any more, but they made him feel better.

Relief came like a tidal wave over his pain. Eide remembered a metaphor about painkillers he'd read about in a horror novel. It was a book about how lower-middle class people were crazy, and would break your legs and make you drink mop water. Whatever the subject of the novel, Eide now understood the appeal of painkillers.

Eide briefly considered taking a third pill, but decided against it. He'd already gone through almost half of his month's supply of pills. The doctors, quacks that they were, would probably think Eide was developing an addiction.

Next, Eide made his way to the bedroom. He kneeled down beside his bed, and began to work on pulling his gun locker out from underneath it. The locker wasn't particularly heavy, but with one arm, Eide still needed to work at pulling it out.

Eide dialed in the combination on the safe's keypad and flipped open the black, steel cover. Eide only owned two guns; his hunting rifle, and a handgun he'd bought for security.

With his current handicap, the hunting rifle was out of the question. If Eide tried shooting it with one arm, he'd probably dislocate his shoulder from the recoil. The pistol was much more preferable, as it was easy to conceal and fire.

Though Eide knew the gun wasn't loaded, he still checked to make sure there was no ammo in it before sticking it in his pocket. Eide pulled his shirt over the handle that stuck out, effectively concealing it.

Next, Eide went back into the living room to collect his handgun ammo. Eide kept his ammo on a bookshelf in the corner, hidden behind an old copy of _Owls are Owlsome_ that his father had owned.

Eide tossed the book to the ground and snatched up the box of pistol ammo that was stuffed towards the back. Eide slipped the box of ammo into his other pocket.

It was going to be tricky getting the ammo out and loading his gun with one arm. Eide supposed he could load the gun now, but that would be dangerous. Eide's parents had driven the essentials of gun safety into his head ever since he owned his first BB gun.

Sticking a loaded gun into your pants was just asking for trouble.

Eide laughed to himself. He felt lightheaded, but good. The pain from his migraines was already subsiding. His nose had stopped bleeding, leaving his nostrils caked in dry blood. Eide didn't particular care about that, though. His mind was focused entirely on what needed to be done.

With a smile on his face, Eide left his cabin and began making his way to town.

* * *

The bike ride into town hadn't exactly been smooth. Germ had gone off-road for most of it, and Mae had fallen off more than once. She was kind of used to falling off of peoples' bikes by this point.

Mae hadn't bothered asking why Germ had taken Eide's prosthetic arm. Maybe Germ had thought it would help Mae somehow. Or maybe Germ just always wanted to own a fake arm.

Come to think of it, that arm would be a good prop for Lori's movie. Mae made a mental note about that.

As the two made their way past the Food Donkey and into town, Mae felt herself gradually begin to calm down. Without realizing it, she'd been pretty tense. Mae felt like that was a reasonable response to the situation she'd just been in. Mae would probably feel better after talking to her friends. The sooner, the better.

But what time was it? They'd been working when Mae left to go to Possum Leap. How long had Mae been unconscious?

Mae looked up at the sky, studying it intently. Judging by the color, the position of the sun, and the cloud visibility…

Mae had no idea what time it was. People who could tell the time by looking at the sky were basically wizards, as far as Mae was concerned.

Suddenly, Germ's bike came to a stop. Mae, distracted by the sky and thoughts of wizards, didn't have time to brace herself. She fell forward, bouncing off of Germ's back and then off the side of the bike. She scraped her elbow on the sidewalk, but aside from that, she was fine.

"Oh," Germ said, adjusting the prosthetic arm he was balancing on his shoulder. "Sorry about that."

"Don't sweat it," Mae grumbled as she stood up. Once she regained her bearings, Mae came to realize that they were outside of Gregg's apartment. Mae had to hand it to Germ, he'd picked a good place to come to. Gregg and Angus's home was a great place for band meetups.

"I gotta stash my bike somewhere," Germ said. He hopped off of his bike and began to walk it away from the apartment, in the direction of the Video Outpost Too. "You can go on up."

"Thanks," Mae said. She wanted to say something more, but what could she say? There didn't seem to be anything that could capture how grateful Mae was to Germ. He'd saved Mae's life twice, after all. Mae was starting to realize that, along with Gregg, Angus, and Bea, she had at least one other best friend in Germ.

"Hey," Mae called after him. Germ hadn't gotten very far away. He stopped and looked over his shoulder (The one that didn't have the arm draped over it) at Mae. As always, Germ was hard to read.

"You're a good man, Germ," Mae said. She offered a sincere smile to him.

For just a moment, Mae thought she saw the corners of Germ's mouth turn upwards into a small smile. The little oddball was smiling with his eyes, at least.

"You, too, Mae," Germ said.

By the time Mae realized Germ had just called her a man, she was already on the second floor of the apartment building.

As soon as Mae got to Gregg and Angus's apartment, she began to pound on the door. Mae realized that she probably didn't need to knock as hard as this, but she had a lot of energy and was kind of panicking.

It naturally didn't take long for someone to answer the door. Angus stood in the open doorway. When he saw Mae, his expression was one of surprise, followed by one of concern. Mae could hear faint music coming from their apartment. It sounded like a video game Mae could only vaguely remember the title of.

"Wow, Mae, are you okay?" Angus asked. He politely stepped aside, wordlessly inviting Mae into the apartment. Mae didn't need to be asked twice.

Gregg was laying out on the couch, his broken leg stretched out across the cushions. Seeing Gregg in that cast made Mae feel guilty, despite the situation she was in. A game controller sat in Gregg's lap. Mae looked over at the apartment's TV and saw that he had paused whatever he was playing when he heard the knocking.

When Angus closed the door, Mae realized she had no idea how to explain any of this. Sure, she could just say she'd been kidnapped, but her mind felt too frazzled to string a decent explanation together. Judging by the looks on Gregg and Angus's faces, they could tell something was very wrong.

"Where's Bea?" Mae asked quickly. Her eyes darted nervously to the door. Part of her expected Eide to come barging in any minute.

"She's at home, I guess," Angus said. "The Pickaxe is closed right now. Mae, seriously, are you okay?"

Mae laughed and shook her head. She was the opposite of okay. Her adrenaline was dying down, and fear was rushing in to take its place.

"Emergency meeting," Mae said. "We need Bea. Germ's outside parking his bike, so he should be here soon. When everyone's here, I'll explain." Mae paused, thinking. "I don't think I have the energy to explain what happened twice."

Gregg and Angus both exchanged a worried look. They'd been together for so long that Mae knew they could communicate just by looking at each other. Ordinarily, Mae thought it was super cute and romantic. Right now, though, she was too anxious to gush about her friends' relationship.

"I'll go call Bea," Angus said. No questions, no doubts; the big guy headed into the kitchen, where the apartment's phone was. Mae let loose a sigh of relief before collapsing into a sitting position on the floor. She felt like she could take a million naps right now.

"Yo, Mae. You okay?" Gregg sat up as much as he could on the couch. He shifted in his seat, moving his leg off of the couch. He looked so concerned that it broke Mae's heart a little.

It occurred to Mae that, when Gregg found out what would happen, he'd be incredibly pissed. Mae knew Gregg didn't like it when his friends were effed with. Something about that made Mae feel a little bit better.

"It's been a bad day, Gregg," Mae said. She couldn't think of anything else to say. Part of her just wanted to sleep. Mae would have probably collapsed and conked out on the floor right then and there if she wasn't so terrified of Eide showing up. That, and sleeping on a floor wasn't exactly comfortable.

The sound of footsteps in the hallway outside made all thoughts of exhaustion suddenly leave Mae's head. From the sound of the footsteps, it probably wasn't Eide; these footsteps sounded too light. Despite knowing this, Mae still felt like her heart was about to leap out of her chest. She imagined her mind was playing tricks on her, or that Eide was just lighter than he looked.

The doorknob to the apartment began to turn. Mae slowly became aware of the fact she was hyperventilating. Her whole world was focused on that door. Out of the corner of her eye, Mae could see that Gregg was looking at her with intense concern.

This is stupid, Mae thought. It isn't Eide. It isn't Eide.

And yet, Mae found herself holding her breath until the door opened and Germ stepped into the apartment.

Well, that was a relief. It was such a relief that Mae promptly crashed to the floor and fell asleep.

* * *

Mae hadn't been asleep for long when Bea arrived at the apartment. The sound of one of her best friends opening and closing the door, as well as the smell of Bea's cigarette, woke Mae up slowly. Her face felt weird from sleeping on the floor.

Gregg and Angus were both sitting on the couch. When Mae sat up, they both looked relieved. Evidently, Germ had told them to let her sleep. Mae had needed a quick power nap.

When Bea joined Gregg and Angus on the couch, and asked what exactly the hell was going on, Mae told them. She tried to explain it all as best she could, even though not all of it made sense to her yet. For instance, she still didn't get what Eide meant about planting an idea in her head. And Mae couldn't quite remember the dream she'd had about Casey, or whatever she'd learned from it.

She also hadn't bothered mentioning that Germ had stolen Eide's prosthetic arm. Mae had a feeling that she'd never really wrap her head around that part of today's events.

Nevertheless, Mae got her main point across. When she was done, her friends sat there in stunned silence.

Angus was the first to speak, and what he said caught Mae off-guard.

"Holy shit," he said. He sounded suitably horrified. Knowing Angus, Mae had a feeling he didn't believe some of Mae's story. It looked like he believed the important part, though. The kidnapping part.

"I'm gonna kill him," Gregg said tersely. He didn't sound angry, but Mae could see that her best friend wasn't in a good mood at all. "I'm going to effing kill him. If I still had my crossbow, he'd already be dead."

"As much as I agree with the sentiment, Gregg, let's maybe not leap immediately to vigilante justice," Bea said. She was always the voice of reason. Mae guessed that the group needed that. She and Gregg were irresponsible, and Angus would sometimes go along with Gregg's wacky ideas just out of love for him. And Germ was… well, he was Germ.

It wasn't such a bad thing to have a Mom Friend, after all.

"We should call the cops," Angus offered helpfully.

As much as Mae disliked cops, even she had to admit that there were times when you had to call on the proper authorities. Down in the mines, they hadn't been able to identify any of the cultists. Not only that, but Mae had a feeling that at least some of them might have been cops themselves.

This time, though, Mae had seen Eide's face. Not only that, she'd been to his house.

Even if the cops didn't believe Mae's story, they'd still have to go investigate. And if they did that, they'd find the basement door that had been blown off of its hinges by Germ's dynamite. That wasn't exactly watertight proof of a kidnapping, but it was definitely something that the police would be interested in.

"Angus is right," Mae concluded. "As much as I appreciate you wanting to go all street justice for my sake, Gregg, I think we should actually do the adult thing and not chase down this guy with knives."

Gregg looked like a kid who was being denied his favorite toy. Despite his sour expression, though, he seemed to concede the point.

"Fine," Gregg said. He looked over towards Angus, frowning a bit. "Cap'n, can you go call 'em? They'll be suspicious if I'm the one who does it."

Angus patted Gregg's good knee and got up. Once again, he walked off to the kitchen to make the phone call.

"Today's been neat," Germ said cheerfully. "I always have fun with you guys."

"Yeah, a load of fun," Mae muttered. "Getting kidnapped's a real blast. Don't know why I never did it before today."

Germ either didn't seem to pick up on Mae's sarcasm, or didn't care. They'd been hanging out for nearly a year, but Germ wasn't getting any easier to read. If he was going to do crimes with Mae after Gregg moved to Bright Harbor, then that would have to change.

"I seriously can't believe one of them survived," Bea said. She'd taken her cigarette out of her mouth, and was holding it daintily between her fingers. She looked as calm as normal, but Mae could tell that Bea was clearly stressed.

"Are you alright, Mae?" Bea asked. "Do you need to rest, or anything?"

"No," Mae said, shaking her head. "I basically passed out as soon as I got here. I'm too high-strung to sleep, anyway. Keep worrying that someone's gonna bust down the door and come after me."

Mae tried to chuckle to play off her fears, but instead it came out sounding like a sort of cough. It took a while for Mae to realize that everyone was looking at her. Only Angus, who she could hear on the phone in the kitchen, was preoccupied by other things.

"Guys, I'm fine," Mae said. "This isn't the first crazy thing to happen to me. I'm good."

"Mae, you've had a rough couple of months," Bea said. "You can't blame us for being worried about you."

Well, technically, Mae could blame them. It wouldn't really be appropriate, though, so she wasn't going to.

Mae heard the sound of a phone being hung up. Soon, Angus emerged from the kitchen. "They'll be here in a bit," Angus said. "I only told them someone grabbed one of my friends. I left out the part about the cult. Didn't think it would be relevant."

"We can let them find out about the cult stuff later," Mae said. She wasn't looking forward to that can of worms being opened.

Her friends continued talking. Mae didn't really pay attention. Bea was right; Mae's life had been stressful lately. Mae really didn't like stress, even though it sometimes felt unavoidable. Stress made Mae upset, and when Mae felt upset she became afraid that she would drift off again. Mae felt as if she had to focus to keep the world from turning into shapes.

Focusing turned out to be a good idea this time. As Mae tried to tune out her negative thoughts, she became aware of a sound. Or, rather, it was the idea of a sound. An echo without a source. The noise of metal scraping against metal.

Mae's mouth felt dry. She tried to speak, but at first couldn't find the words. Finally, she looked at Gregg, her eyes wide. Gregg seemed a bit caught off-guard by her expression, but Mae didn't care. The noise in her head was getting louder.

"The door," she said. "Gregg, did you remember to lock the door?"

"He never remembers," Angus said, earning a bashful look from Gregg. "Would you feel better if the door was locked?"

Mae began to nod frantically.

Angus made his way across the apartment, past the couch and to the door. By the time he began to reach out to the lock, however, it was too late.

The door was quickly flung open. Whoever had opened it had done a clumsy job, because they were holding something in the hand they used to turn the doorknob. It took Mae a second to realize that the thing they were holding was a gun.

It took Mae less time to realize the gun was being pointed at her.


	24. At the End of Anything

Mae had discovered something very interesting on that day: when someone pointed a gun at you, everything seemed to slow down. Your mind would race, but your body wouldn't keep up with its desperate pleas to move out of the way. It was like your brain was trying to draw out what it thought would be your last moments alive for as long as possible.

It was impossible to tell if anyone else had noticed what was happening. Eide stood partially obscured by the door to Gregg and Angus's apartment. He had taken only a few seconds to register where Mae was and raise his gun in her direction, sticking his arm through the doorframe and into the apartment..

There was something wrong with Eide's eyes. There was something wrong with his whole face. It looked as if his nose had been bleeding. He was scowling wildly, his finger moving to the trigger of the gun.

Then Angus closed the door.

Eide's arm, which had been poking through the small opening, was slammed into the doorframe. A scream of pain escaped him as Angus pushed the door into his exposed arm. Eide was struggling to hold onto his gun, waving it wildly as he tried to fight against the door. Mutual cries of panic escaped everyone in the apartment.

Only two people were silent. There was Angus, who was focusing on keeping Eide's arm trapped.

And there was Germ, who was just… kind of sitting around.

Eide's arm began to pull back, trying to pull itself free from between the door and the door frame. Angus pushed harder against the door, prompting another cry of pain from Eide. He was caught by the crook of his elbow; the corner of the door was pushing into the joint.

"Yeah, get him!" Gregg called out. His panic had died down, and he was now enthusiastically cheering. "Snap his arm, Cap'n!"

"Actually, I could use some help," Angus said. Despite the situation, he sounded as calm as usual. "Could someone—"

Angus was cut off by the deafening sound of Eide firing his gun blindly into the air. The bullet whizzed over the heads of Gregg and Bea on the couch and hit the wall beside the kitchen's entrance. A second shot flew into the kitchen itself.

The noise and force of the shot made Angus flinch a bit, and Eide was able to pull his arm free from the vice it had been trapped in. Angus quickly pushed the door forward again, pinning Eide's forearm in place.

"Son of a bitch!" Eide screamed out.

Mae watched as Eide's fingers uncurled from around his gun ever so slightly. The pain from the door digging into his arm had loosened his grip. Seeing this, Mae decided to do perhaps the stupidest thing she'd ever done.

Mae jumped to her feet and ran towards the door. Before anyone could stop her, Mae reached out and grabbed onto Eide's gun. As soon as she did, Eide tightened his grip on the gun's handle and tried to fight Mae off.

Keeping her hands clear of the gun's barrel, Mae began pulling on the gun. Eide's grip was tight; he was clinging onto his handgun for dear life. Mae ignored the protests from her friends as she continued struggling with Eide for the gun.

Eventually, the obvious solution presented itself to Mae. She moved her hands off of the gun and onto Eide's own hand. She quickly and sharply dug her claws into Eide's exposed flesh as tight as she could.

Then the third shot was fired

Mae flinched as the recoil from the gun sent Eide's hand reeling back. With her involuntary reaction, Mae's grip on Eide's hand weakened. Angus pushed on the door as hard as he could, but Eide managed to slip his arm free. The door shut as Eide's hand and gun disappeared back into the hallway.

Angus quickly locked and bolted the door shut. Mae was about to ask if everyone was okay when he grabbed her and hurried away from the door. Sure enough, a few seconds after they got away, two more shots were fired through the wooden door. Smoking circles appeared in the wood, light from the hallway shining in.

The whole apartment was still echoing with the noise of the gunshots.

Everyone in the apartment hurried toward the doorway to the kitchen. Angus supported Gregg as he hobbled along with them, hopping on his good leg. Only Germ took his time getting away from the gunshots. He looked as unperturbed as ever.

A few moments of silence passed. Mae felt someone put their hand on her shoulder and squeeze gently. Mae looked to see that it was Bea, her eyes focused on the door. Everyone else was huddled around Mae. All of her friends were surrounding her; Angus in the back, Germ in front, Gregg and Bea on the left and right. They were like animals protecting their young, forming a defensive barrier.

For some reason, this made Mae want to cry.

"Why'd he stop?" Gregg whispered. Mae wasn't sure why he was whispering. Eide pretty clearly knew they were all here.

"He fired five shots, right?" Mae asked. "Maybe he's almost out of bullets. Maybe he's using, like, a revolver or something."

"That wasn't a revolver, Mae," Angus said. "He probably has plenty of bullets left."

Gregg was leaning against Angus, his broken leg lifted up in front of him. He looked from the door, to Angus, and back to the door. He seemed incredibly uncertain about something. "Why doesn't he, you know… shoot the doorknob off, or something?" He nodded his head toward the door.

"Don't give him any ideas," Mae hissed.

Angus shook his head calmly. "It wouldn't work," he said. "He'd need a really powerful gun, and even then, there'd be shrapnel. He can't get in here with just a pistol and one arm."

That explanation calmed Mae down a little. She was still scared out of her mind, but at least she wasn't worried about Eide shooting the lock off the door, SWAT-style.

Any noise from out in the hallway settled down for a while. There was the sound of feet pacing back and forth, and occasionally muttering. Aside from that, there was nothing.

The eerie quiet was cut short by the sound of a hand banging on the door. The noise was frantic. Eide sounded as if he was losing whatever patience he had left.

Mae supposed that pounding on the door was better than shooting it. Were Gregg and Angus going to have to pay to have the door fixed, though?

"Get out here!" Eide screamed. His voice was hoarse, animal-like. It wasn't the voice of a man who wanted to settle things reasonably. "Get out here right now! Open the door!"

Eide continued repeating this very reasonable request, punctuating his sentences by pounding on the door. If he had resorted to simply asking them to come out, it seemed like he was out of ideas. Either that or he thought they would actually do as he asked and come out.

"How long 'till the cops get here, again?" Bea asked.

"Judging from past experiences, they should be here any minute," Angus said.

Bea raised a brow. She turned to look at Angus in confusion. "'Past experiences?' Do the cops come here a lot?" After a moment, Bea apparently realized the answer to that question.

"What am I saying? Gregg lives here. Of course they do."

As Mae's focus returned to the door, she became aware of something odd. The metal noise, the sound in the back of her head, was gone. Mae wasn't certain when it had stopped; all the noise Eide was making was a bit of a distraction.

But for the first time in what felt like all day, Mae's head was quiet. What had happened?

* * *

This was stupid.

That was the only thing Eide could think of as he pounded fruitlessly on the door with the butt of his gun. This whole thing was stupid, and Eide didn't care.

Eide had never shot anyone before; he'd only ever taken his guns out to the shooting range outside Briddle. All the same, Eide had expected it to be fairly easy to kill Borowski and her gaggle of idiots. He'd been a bit concerned that Germ Warfare, who Eide was almost certain was some sort of hard drug dealer, was packing heat. Other than that, though, Eide thought that this would be smooth sailing.

But no. The big one, who Eide knew was named Delaney, had slammed the door on Eide's arm. Not just once, but at least three times. It hurt like a bitch. Eide didn't need to look to know he was going to get bruises soon.

What was worse, though, was that Eide had wasted five bullets. If he'd been trying to kill the walls, then this would have been a successful trip.

Reloading the gun would be a pain. Eide was sure he could do it with one arm, but it would take a long time to put the ammo in the magazine. This would have been easier if the gun was a revolver.

Eide looked down at the doorknob and considered shooting at it. Was there a chance he'd be able to blow the lock off? That seemed like the sort of thing that only worked in movies. Eide was desperate, but not desperate enough to waste any more bullets on something that might not even work.

With the state Eide was in, though, he might wind up getting desperate real quick. His mind was frantic, his migraines unbearable. Why was he still having pains? Hadn't he taken his pain meds?

This was Borowski's fault. Eide didn't know how, but it was. She was giving him migraines just by continuing to live.

Eide closed his eyes and pressed his head against the cool wood of the door. He tried to listen for the Goat's singing, but there was nothing. All Eide could hear was the sound of his own heartbeat, the frantic pounding dying down as a melancholy began to set in.

Why was the Goat silent? Was He displeased with Eide? Had Eide crossed some sort of line by going after Borowski?

Eide didn't think that was the case. The Goat was interested in her, sure, but the Goat just didn't know any better. He had Eide; He didn't need the Borowski girl. Maybe the Goat didn't understand that, but He would in time.

But the silence still unsettled Eide. He didn't like the quiet. Without the Goat, the world was just useless background noise. Wind blowing, birds singing, insects chirping, sirens blaring. The world wasn't worth paying attention to. The world wasn't worth anything at

Wait. Sirens?

Eide's eyes snapped open. The world was filled with red and blue. The light from police cars shined into the apartment building from outside. The noise was causing a commotion in the streets.

Faintly, Eide could hear the sound of someone coming up the steps.

Something inside of Eide broke down. He felt as if he was falling, as if the world around him was drifting away. Ordinarily, when Eide felt like this, the Goat's singing had always kept him anchored. The noise had a sort of solidness, in spite of its ethereal nature.

But the Goat was still silent. Eide was all alone in a word filled with dead things and…

Shapes. That was it. Everything else was just shapes.

There was nothing around for Eide anymore. The only people he'd ever associated with were dead. His hometown was slowly dying. His God had gone silent, and it was unlikely Leon would be able to get into the mine.

And as the footsteps in the stairwell grew closer, Eide began to realize that even revenge was slipping away from him. Even if he did shoot Borowski and her friends, Eide would still likely go to jail. He still wouldn't be able to hear the Goat.

Eide began to realize that his throat was hurting. Blinking back a few tears, Eide stepped away from the door. He gave one last, futile kick to the damn thing before turning towards the end of the hallway.

The second story window looked so far away, but Eide knew he could make it there before the cops finished climbing the stairs. The drop down to the street wasn't even that far. Eide had confidence he could make it.

And if he couldn't, it didn't really matter anyway.

* * *

Mae had never felt so happy to hear police sirens in her life.

Granted, Mae had never been happy to hear police sirens before now. Today was kind of a special occasion, though. Mae didn't think that wanting the police to save her from a madman with a gun made her any less antiestablishment.

But the sound of sirens wasn't the only noise that heralded the cops' arrival. Outside the apartment, Mae could hear someone running down the hallway. It didn't sound like they were running to the stairwell. But where else could they go?

Was it Eide, running away? Was it the cops chasing after him? Was it some other guy who just really liked ruining tense situations?

Everyone else seemed uncertain as Mae, which was unfortunate. Mae was uncertain most of the time, so she usually needed her friends to lay things out for her.

"Is he gone?" Gregg asked, shifting uncomfortably on his one good leg. "What just happened?"

"Sounded like he ran down the hall," Angus mused. "Don't know why. There's nothing in that direction except for a fire extinguisher and the window."

After a few seconds of silence, things in the apartment began to calm down. While everybody was still staying as far from the door as possible, they weren't huddled as close together as before.

Still, everyone jumped a little when someone suddenly knocked on the door.

"This is the police," said an unfamiliar woman's voice. "Is everyone okay? Anyone shot?"

With Angus holding Gregg up for support, Mae took it upon herself to open the door for the cops. There were two of them, a man and a woman. Mae recognized the man; he used to work with Aunt Molly. Mae was pretty sure his name was Dan.

Mae already knew someone else named Dan, though, so she decided to call this guy 'Officer Lanky', on account of his weird lanky limbs.

"Looks like it's a good thing you called us when you did," the woman said. She rapped her knuckles on the door, right over where the bullet holes. "We got a call about gun shots on the way over."

With two cops in the apartment, things began to settle down. Though everyone (Except Germ, possibly) was still on edge, they were able to leave the spot they'd been hiding in. Angus helped Gregg to the couch, where they were joined by Bea. Germ sat on the floor while Mae explained everything to the cops.

Well, not quite everything. She didn't tell them about the cult, for one. Not just because it would be hard to believe, but because at this point, it didn't really matter. Aside from Leon, who didn't seem entirely onboard with Eide anyway, Eide was all alone.

With the way Mae told her story, she illustrated Eide as some psycho who liked throwing people into his basement. The cops looked as if they knew Mae was leaving something out, but with the smoking bullet holes in the walls and door, they didn't really have time to shift their investigation.

They asked questions, of course. They asked how Mae had gotten overpowered by a man with only one arm. They asked how Mae had escaped (She'd left out the part about the dynamite). Finally, they asked where the man was now.

"How should I know that?" Mae asked. "You guys are the cops."

"He might've slipped out the window," Bea chimed in. The stressful situation had caused her to light another cigarette. "That's where you heard him run, right, Angus?"

Angus cleared his throat. Even in this situation, he didn't want to be in the spotlight.

"Well, it's possible. He certainly seemed, er… desperate enough to attempt something like that."

The woman exchanged a look with Officer Lanky. They both wordlessly nodded, and soon the female officer had left the apartment. Officer Lanky, thumbs in his belt loops, turned back to the group.

"Officer Turner's going to check outside," Lanky said. "In the meantime, I think you kids should come with me to the station. It's for your own safety, and I've got some more questions I'd like to ask."

"That sounds reasonable," Bea said. She was using a tone of voice that made it sound like she'd rather do anything else. Mae couldn't blame her. After a day like today, the last thing anyone wanted was to be questioned by police.

"Gonna need to call a second squad car to fit everyone," Officer Lanky muttered to himself, looking off to the side. He turned back towards the couch and pointed a finger first at Gregg, and then at Gregg's leg. "Is he gonna need any help getting into a vehicle? Or does he need, like, a special pillow for his leg?"

The conversation carried on, but Mae tuned it out. Her eyes were fixed to the wall of Gregg and Angus's apartment, as if she were staring at the window in the outside hallway.

If Eide jumped from the second story window, he was surely dead, right? No one could survive a fall like that.

Wait, no. Mae fell from high places all the time, and she was usually fine. It was a little rough on her ankles, but Mae usually landed on her feet. Who's to say Eide couldn't do the same?

Sure, he was kind of old, but sometimes old people were good at jumping. To assume otherwise would be ageist.

Did it matter if he was still out there, though? The police would be looking for him now. It wouldn't be easy for him to go after anyone again. He had been, in effect, neutralized.

But all the same, Mae felt as if this whole mess wasn't over. She felt like it wouldn't ever be over unless she saw it come to an end with her own two eyes. It was like that night in November last year, when she had to go into the mines. Mae needed to know one way or the other.

If she didn't, this would never stop. It would keep on going for the rest of her life.

Officer Lanky was facing everyone else. He had his back turned on both Mae and the apartment door. While her friends watched the officer drone on, Mae waved her hands to get their attention.

Everyone's eyes shifted to her slowly, and before she even did anything they seemed to know what she had planned. From the looks on their faces, none of them thought it was a good idea. Bea mouthed the word 'No' (Or possibly 'Nose'?) at Mae, her expression dire and forbidding.

Mae could only offer a shrug. She had to do this. With her thumb, Mae first pointed out the apartment door, and then up at the ceiling. Hopefully, that would get her message across.

With her friends still staring at her, and with Officer Lanky still oblivious, Mae turned and rushed out of the apartment. She made her way to the stairwell and began to climb up to the roof.


	25. Let go of Everything

So, in hindsight, running away from the police and chasing after a man who'd tried to murder her wasn't the smartest thing Mae had ever done. It probably wasn't the dumbest thing, but it was definitely in the top ten, maybe even the top five.

Well, hindsight's 20-20, right?

After Mae reached the top of Gregg and Angus's apartment building, it took her no time at all to jump her way to the Food Donkey parking lots. It was late now; the sky was a dark, almost black shade of blue. The sky and the parking lot both seemed to blend together into one singular expanse of blackness. Thankfully, there was just enough light for Mae to make her way to the basketball courts, and from there, to the woods.

Mae wasn't sure why she felt like she knew where she'd find Eide. Maybe it was a sort of sixth sense. Maybe it was the Goat. Or maybe Eide just seemed kind of predictable. Mae barely knew him, but at the same time felt like she knew everything about him. It was a little spooky, but Mae's life had been pretty spooky in general lately.

But spooky or not, Mae felt like she had to make this trip. And so, once again, Mae found herself taking a nighttime hike out to the mines.

Unlike the last time she'd gone up to the mines, this time it was uncomfortably warm. Mae guessed that these hot summer nights would be coming to an end sooner or later. After that, it would only be a matter of time until her one year anniversary of returning to Possum Springs.

God. A whole year back home, and what did Mae have to show for it? She still didn't have a job. Mae wasn't sure if that was because no one wanted to hire her, or she just wasn't looking hard enough. She had a bad feeling it was the former, but wanted to believe it was the latter. Not that either option was particularly better than the other.

It was a little strange to think about unemployment while marching to confront your would-be murderer, but Mae's mind always had a tendency to wander. Anyway, she wanted to get her mind off of a lot of stuff.

The woods brought forth a lot of bad memories. They reminded her of the parties she threw up at. They reminded her of when she was shot at. They reminded her of the mines, where Casey and who knows how many others had met their end.

These woods were full of ghosts.

When a space is haunted, it can't be unhaunted. Mae couldn't remember where she'd heard that, but it was true. The bad stuff didn't go away just because you wanted to make peace with it. Mae knew she'd always have these memories and these feelings. There wouldn't be any closure.

"There won't be any closure," Mae said. When she said it out loud, it seemed more real.

Last year, Mae had learned about holding on and letting go. This year, she'd learned that letting go wasn't as easy as it seemed. Maybe it took your whole life to let go of the things that hurt you. But if you kept holding onto those bad things, you'd just wind up hurting more.

So Mae figured that the best thing to do was to just let go a little bit at a time. She'd let the pain and the sadness slip through her fingers gradually. In the meantime, she'd live her life. For Casey, and Aunt Molly, and whoever else had died in these woods.

Mae stopped on the hill that led to the mine. She didn't stop because she was having second thoughts. She didn't stop because it was too dark, either. Mae had stopped because she needed to process her thoughts. All of that stuff about letting go sounded nice, but putting it into practice was going to be something else altogether.

Also, she stopped because she heard one of her friends call her an asshole.

"Hey, asshole!" Gregg cried out from behind Mae.

Mae was hit by a tremendous amount of déjà vu. Before she even turned around, she knew from the sound of four sets of feet (Well, three-and-a-half) what she'd see. To be certain, though, Mae decided to employ the scientific method and turn around to concern her suspicions.

Gregg, Bea, Angus, and Germ were all standing behind her. Their faces were lit up faintly by the light from Bea's cigarette. Neither Bea nor Gregg seemed especially happy with Mae. Gregg was balanced on a pair of crutches, leaning against Angus slightly. The big guy had his arm wrapped around Gregg's shoulder.

"Really?" Gregg asked. "You're really pulling this shit again? How many times are you gonna march off into dangerous shit without telling us?" Gregg almost looked like he was about to swing one of his crutches at Mae. As fun as hitting each other with crutches might be, though, Gregg didn't look like he was in the mood for goofing off.

Mae rubbed her arm sheepishly, doing her best to avoid making eye contact with any of her friends. "I mean, I couldn't tell you where I was going with a cop in the room," she muttered. "I figured you guys would come after me sooner or later. Surprised you were so quick, though. How'd you get away from the cops?"

"We told them we knew where you went," Bea said. "And then said we'd go get you. They wanted to come with us, so we ditched them." Bea sighed. "Lying to the cops. Great. New high point in my life."

Mae, who had never been the biggest fan of the police, didn't quite understand why Bea was so upset. If Mae had her way, she'd lie to the cops 24/7. Then again, Bea was all responsible and shit. Mae guessed she'd have to apologize for all of this later on.

"Is it okay for you to be out here, though?" Mae asked. "I mean, Gregg's got a broken leg."

Despite the poor lighting, Mae could see Gregg roll his eyes. "You think a broken leg is going to stop me from stopping you from pulling this shit again? I hobbled at the speed of effing light to catch up with you."

"Also, I carried him," Angus chimed in.

Before Mae could get a word in edgewise, she was interrupted by Bea. "Seriously, Mae. I get that you don't have the best impulse control, but did you ever stop and think that this was a bad idea? You're chasing a guy who kidnapped and tried to shoot you. I mean…" Bea stopped, clearly frustrated beyond words. "God, I can't even begin to tell you how scared we were! Jeez!"

Her friends' chastisement only served to make Mae feel even more bashful. She knew this was a dumb idea, but she still felt like it was something she had to do. Guiltily, Mae looked at the disapproving expressions on her friends' faces. The only one who didn't seem upset with her was Germ, who just stood there with his hands in his pockets.

"Are you gonna chew me out, too?" Mae asked.

"I'm just here to watch," Germ said. "I'm invested in all this now. It's real exciting."

Mae didn't really know what to say to that. She supposed it was good that Germ was being honest, at least.

The sounds of bugs and ghost owls filled the woods. Everything that needed to be said had been said. Mae had been properly chastised. The odds she'd do something stupid like this again were pretty good, but at least she wouldn't do it alone.

"So, you really think he's up there?" Gregg asked. "At the mines?"

"It's the only thing I can think of," Mae said. "I mean, it's where I'd go if I was him."

Gregg sighed. Everyone looked out towards the hill. The stony peaks of what had once been the town's lifeblood were just visible against the night sky.

"Damn," Gregg murmured. "Wish I had my crossbow."

* * *

So, in hindsight, trying to shoot Borowski and her friends in their own home with dozens of possible witnesses out in the streets wasn't the smartest thing Eide had ever done. After waking up in the hospital, his impulse control hadn't been great. Usually, that just resulted in temper tantrums or binge eating, though; this was kind of a step up from all that.

Well, hindsight's 20-20, right?

Eide was only just realizing this now. He'd practically sleepwalked his way to the mines. He remembered lowering himself from the second story window of an apartment building, but after that? Nothing. Everything between then and now was a vague blur. Somehow, though, Eide had made it up to the old stomping grounds. He supposed that he knew the way well enough he could do it blindfolded.

Eide stood in front of the collapsed entrance to the mine; the one that they'd used for years to bring tributes to the Goat. It was useless now, all filled with rocks and debris. You could make it a good four feet into the mine before it became impassable.

Why had he come here? Had Eide thought he could get into the mines? He'd gotten out with the Goat's help, so there must have been a way in. That is, unless Eide had just walked through the rocks like old Ed Shudder would have done.

Really, though, Eide suspected he had come up here to try and listen for the Goat again. At first, Eide had wanted to believe that His silence was because Eide was so far away. Now, though, Eide stood in the proverbial maw of the beast and was still met with only silence.

Eide hitched up his pants and sighed. The gun, which he'd tucked into the waistband of his jeans, jostled slightly. Eide couldn't remember if he'd unloaded the gun or not. He supposed he must have. He was always careful with firearms.

After what felt like hours, but was really only a few minutes spent standing in silence, Eide had company. He didn't need to turn to know who it was. The sound of heavy work boots on loose stone told him it was Leon. Not exactly the person Eide most wanted to see at the moment.

"Eide," Leon said, "What the hell is going on?"

His voice was stern, authoritative; clearly angry, but trying to stay calm. Eide noted with some displeasure that it was like a parent chastising their child.

"I was in the Clik Clak when I heard gunshots and sirens," Leon continued. "Then I look out the window and see you running past. What happened?"

Eide sighed. He supposed everyone from Underhill to the old Food Donkey must have heard the gunshots. It wasn't a sound that was usually heard in Possum Springs's town proper. Maybe out in the woods, or one of the seedier neighborhoods, but not the actual town.

Eide briefly considered feigning ignorance, but the fact he had his gun tucked into his pants pretty much gave his involvement away. With a weary sigh, he turned to face Leon. The older man looked equal parts concerned and angry. Was he worried that Eide would get locked up? The thought actually touched Eide a little.

"I was taking care of unfinished business," Eide said. He was surprised at how dead his own voice sounded. His throat was dry, too. When had that started?

"I was gonna shoot her," Eide continued. "Shoot her and her friends. They killed this town, Leon. Only a matter of time before the Goat takes away what it gave us. Next flood or blizzard'll wipe this town off the map."

Leon stared at Eide as if he'd just said the most ridiculous thing he'd ever heard. Eide didn't really understand why, but he was too exhausted to throw a tantrum about it.

"You tried to shoot someone?" Leon's eyes were wide when he spoke. Eide had never seen him so taken aback. Then again, he didn't really know him all that well. Maybe Leon was in a constant state of shock, and Eide just didn't know it. In this case, Eide supposed his surprise was a bit justified.

Eide gestured towards the mine's entrance limply, not even bothering to turn and look at it. "She caused the cave-in. Spat in the Goat's face. That don't matter now. Don't matter." Eide chuckled sadly. "Can't hear the Goat right now. That's probably Borowski's fault, too."

"Wait. Borowski?" Leon repeated. There was an outraged quality to his tone that Eide didn't quite appreciate. The older man's face was contorting in anger. "You tried to shoot Mae Borowski?"

The question didn't really register with Eide right away. He gave a tired, one-armed shrug and then nodded. "Yeah," Eide said. "Was all I could think to do after what she did."

"What the hell, Eide?!" Leon snapped. Despite his exhaustion, Eide flinched a little. He wasn't prepared for the vitriol in Eide's voice. "I worked with Borowski's father! My son dated her, for eff's sake! Why did you think it was okay to shoot her?!"

Eide didn't say anything. He knew Borowski was the sort of person who'd be missed if she disappeared. But, in Eide's mind, the rule about only going after people no one would care about didn't apply in this case. Borowski was the exception.

"She caused the cave-in," Eide muttered. "Her and her friends sealed up the mine. Now we can't get to the Goat."

Leon threw his hands up in the air. "Oh, well why didn't you say so?" He asked. "In that case, I'll go give them a friggin' medal for doing what none of us had the balls to do!" He pointed a finger threateningly at Eide, who once again flinched.

"Listen to you, Eide. You care more about that thing in the hole than you do about the people who died in that mine. It's disgusting." Leon paused. "That's why you wanted me to get into the mine, isn't it? To get to the Goat. You didn't give a shit about giving the others a proper burial."

"They've already been buried," Eide pointed out. "In case you didn't notice, they're all underground."

Leon didn't seem to like hearing that. Eide could tell both by the look on his face, and the fact that Leon was reaching out to grab him. Leon's hands, rough and worn from years of hard work, gripped onto the collar of Eide's shirt, tugging him forward. A gasp of surprise escaped past Eide's chapped lips as his feet were dragged along the ground.

On instinct, Eide reached forward and tried to push Leon away. He was weak, and only had one arm, but he put everything he had into it. The two men struggled, pushing and pulling each other, until finally Leon pushed Eide away.

As Eide stumbled backwards, he could feel the stones beneath his feet shift. His heel slid on a pebble, and Eide fell backwards onto his hip.

That was when the gun he'd tucked into his jeans went off.

* * *

Mae and her friends didn't exactly need any help getting to the mines, even with the night being as dark as it was. That being said, the sound of a gun going off, followed by frantic screaming, made it a whole hell of a lot easier to find Eide.

When Mae arrived at the mines (Hopefully for the last time in her life) she didn't know what she expected to find waiting for her at the collapsed entrance. She supposed she'd expected to find a dead body, and Eide standing over it with a smoking gun. He'd raise his gun towards her, and they'd have their final climactic confrontation. Mae would give a snappy one-liner, they'd fight, and she'd win. Happy ending.

What Mae hadn't been expecting to find, and, indeed, doubted anyone would have expected to find, was Eide himself writhing on the ground in agony. Blood was pooling beneath him, and a large, red stain had appeared on the side of the leg of his jeans. It took Mae a moment to realize what had happened.

"Holy shit," she said. "Did you shoot yourself?"

"Yeah, he did it wrong," Germ added. "You're s'posed to do it in the head. Not the leg."

Eide stopped screaming for long enough to shoot a furious look at Germ. His good arm clutched his bad leg as his writhing gradually stopped. He was panting now; sweat building up on his forehead. His eyes looked more like a wild animal's than a person's.

"Shut… up," he growled through his teeth. "Shut up and get me out of here. Now."

Mae heard Bea scoff. The cigarette in her lips bobbed up and down when she did so. "Seriously? You tried to kill us, and now you want us to help you? Really?"

Eide closed his eyes and bit his lip. His body was shaking, but he seemed to be trying to regain his composure. Mae had to hand it to him; he could handle pain pretty well. Or at least as well as anyone could handle getting shot in the leg.

"Yes. Okay," Eide said. "Okay… agh… Fair point. I was a dick." His voice was shaky, but calmer. He almost sounded like he was pleading. "Shit… look, he took my gun. Okay? Please. Get me out of here. Get the police, or a hospital. But don't leave me here. Please."

Mae looked at her friends, trying to read what they thought about the situation. Unfortunately, she found that they were all doing the same thing. The only one who didn't seem uncertain was Angus, his eyes hidden and unreadable behind his glasses. The stern expression he wore was more than a little scary.

If no one else had any ideas, Mae said the only thing she could think of. "You killed Casey." The words felt heavy for some reason. Mae was surprised by how low her own voice was when she said it. "You threw him into your stupid hole because you thought no one would miss him."

Eide didn't say anything. It seemed like he was trying to avoid looking at them. It wasn't out of shame; he looked like he was trying to think of something. The pain he was going through wasn't helping his concentration. His face scrunched up in agony, he turned back to the group.

"Alright," he said, raising his hand up. "Okay. We killed your friend. We killed a lot of people. I understand." The corners of Eide's mouth moved in a way that Mae guessed was an attempt at a smile. "And if you take me to a hospital, I'll go to jail, right? Isn't that what you want? I live, you get revenge for your friend. Win-win, right?"

"So, now that you have a bullet in your leg, you're suddenly remorseful?" Bea asked skeptically. She'd taken her cigarette out of her mouth, and was now holding it off to the side. Her arms were folded over her chest as she glared at Eide. "That is such bullshit. Are you actually sorry? Do you even care? Or is you dying somehow more important than them dying?"

"I'm still not sure who this guy is," Germ suddenly chimed in.

Eide screamed out and slammed his hand onto the cold, stone ground beneath him. His outburst made Mae jump a little. His good leg twitched beneath the bad one as he tried to lift himself up into a sitting position. The pained attempt at amiability was gone from his face.

For the first time, it occurred to Mae that this man might die out here. It wasn't just the blood pouring out of his leg. It wasn't just the color fading from his face. There was something in the atmosphere, something cold and dark. Despite the warmth in the air, Mae felt herself shudder.

"None of that matters!" Eide shouted, his voice cracking under the strain. "You can't leave me out here! It isn't right!" Then, his voice trembling, "He has my gun. He took my gun and only left when he heard you all coming. He has my gun!"

Mae didn't ask who Eide was talking about. She had a pretty good feeling she knew who it was. There was only one other person who would be out by these mines, and he seemed like he wouldn't approve of Eide's recent actions. For some reason, though, Eide's fear infected Mae. She began to feel afraid, herself.

And Gregg didn't exactly help matters with what he said next. "I'm gonna kill him."

"Wait, what?" Mae asked, evidently too late. Gregg began to hobble towards Eide, his eyes dead focused on the wounded man. He was only stopped by a large hand coming down gently onto his shoulder.

"Bug," Angus said, "Don't. He's already bleeding out. We can just leave him here."

"Uh… can we?" Bea asked uncertainly. Gregg and Angus seemed to ignore her.

"He killed my friend!" Gregg said. He didn't sound completely angry; more like he was on the verge of a breakdown. "Him and his asshole cronies killed one of my best friends! You want me to just leave him alone?!"

"Gregg, you can't do this," Angus said firmly. "You aren't a killer. I know you. You wouldn't be able to sleep at night if you did this. No matter how much this guy deserves it, you shouldn't do this."

Something about the way Angus said that Eide deserved to die sent a shiver down Mae's spine. She'd nearly forgotten about it, but he'd been the only one who wasn't conflicted about leaving the cultists in the mines to suffocate. As nice as Angus was, Mae supposed even he had his limits. She found herself wondering what would happen if Angus was alone with Eide. Mae tried to dismiss that particular idea as quickly as possible.

"Damn it," Gregg muttered. There were a lot of emotions in his voice; sadness, anger, frustration. Mae wanted to reach out and give her oldest friend a hug. "Fine. Whatever. This bastard isn't worth it."

"I didn't say that," Angus said, his tone ominous. "But the police are already looking for him. Even if he doesn't die, he's going to get what's coming to him. Let somebody else take care of him, hon."

"Someone else?" Germ asked. "Wait, should I kill him?"

The tense mood disappeared suddenly as everyone turned to look at Germ.

"Uh, no, Germ," Angus said. "That's not what I—"

"Because I will," Germ said. There was no malice in his voice. It sounded like he was offering to pick up a pizza. "I could probably figure out how to kill him if you give me a few minutes."

"Oh, God," Eide moaned woefully. "I knew it. I knew he was some sort of gangbanger."

"Could everyone please settle down?" Mae cried out. Her own impatience caught her by surprise. She didn't want to wrap her head around another morally gray decision. She wanted to put everything behind her, but didn't want to kill Eide. Despite what everyone said, Mae wasn't a killer.

"I came out here to put all this shit behind me," Mae said. "Like, I just want to finally move on. I want to get old, and get a job, and settle down somewhere in, like, Iowa. I don't always wanna be the girl who nearly killed a guy at a softball game, or who met a bunch of cultists in a mine.

"I wanted to move on," she continued. "But you and your bullshit kept pulling me back in." Kind of like what Mae had done to Andy Cullen at the party, Mae thought. She'd wanted closure from someone who'd just wanted to move on, and as a result, he'd probably never go to another one of Jackie's parties again.

Had Eide wanted the same thing? If so, he'd gone about it in entirely the wrong way. It was sad. He wanted to know that the bad stuff he went through meant something, and he was willing to ruin someone else's life to do it. That revelation made Mae realize something.

"You're pathetic," she said to Eide. There was no malice in her voice. She was simply stating a fact she'd just learned. "You're not worth all of this hassle. You're just a sad, old guy who wants to go back to how things used to be."

Eide looked shocked. It was evident that the one-armed man hadn't been expecting to hear that. He wasn't the only one; Gregg looked pretty surprised, too.

"Not worth the hassle?" Gregg repeated, baffled. "Mae, he helped kill Casey!"

"I said he was pathetic. I didn't say he wasn't a scumbag," Mae clarified. "Believe me, I've got no pity for him. But, like… he's nothing now. There's no cult anymore; he's just some guy. Just a ghost of a… thing."

Mae sighed. "Crap, I lost it."

"So, you're saying we should help him?" Bea asked. Her cigarette was gone now; stomped out on the stones beneath her feet.

"Hell no!" Mae said, laughing despite her situation. "I'm saying we call the police and wash our hands of this shit. Let's go home, and sleep, and play a song. Let's make movies with Lori, or watch Levy do drugs."

Mae paused, and added, "Let's just keep living, dudes. Unlike this asshole, we aren't gonna go to jail. We can still move on." Mae jerked a thumb in the direction of Eide, who was watching them in bewilderment.

The gang was silent. Everyone exchanged silent glances with each other before someone finally responded.

"I guess that sounds good," Gregg said.

"Who's Lori?" Bea asked.

"Alright. Let's go back into town and apologize for running from the police," Mae said. For the first time in what felt like a long time, she was smiling. As they turned to leave, however, Eide cried out after them.

"Take me with you!" He screamed. He sounded delirious. When Mae looked over her shoulder, she saw he was beginning to look incredibly pale. Mae guessed he'd lost a lot of blood.

"He… he has my gun," Eide said again. "He has my gun. He'll use it. Please. Oh, god, please, take me with you." His mouth opened and closed uselessly a few times. Sounds that weren't quite words emerged from him.

Mae turned around. Despite everything she'd just said, there was one thing she still needed to know. Even if she thought she knew the answer, Mae wanted to hear it said out loud and proven.

"Hey," she said. "On the night in the mines when the cave-in happened, was my Aunt Molly down there with you guys?"

Eide blinked. He didn't seem to comprehend what Mae was saying at first. His unfocused eyes seemed to look straight through Mae Borowski.

"What?" He asked, finally.

"My aunt," Mae said. "Molly. Was she down in the mines?"

A long, agonizing groan escaped from Eide. He slapped his hand against the stones again. There were practically tears in his eyes. "What the hell are you talking about?!" Eide finally snapped, frustrated. "Why the hell would Molly be in the mines?!"

Mae felt as if the world turned upside-down in that moment. That hadn't been the answer she had been expecting. If Eide didn't know why Molly would be in the mines, did that mean she wasn't one of them? Or did it mean she had some different job in the cult that didn't require her to be near the Goat?

Mae only had more questions now. But, at the same time, she had the one answer that really mattered.

"Come on, guys," she said after a while. "Let's go home."

Mae turned and began to lead her friends away from the mines. They hesitated a bit. Bea stayed the longest, looking at Eide with something like uncertainty in her eyes. Soon, though, she joined them. They began to march up the hill to the woods, the stone beneath their feet turning into loose dirt.

"Wait!" Eide screamed after them, his voice straining as he did so. "Come back! Get back here!" He continued to shout as they walked away. First, pleading; then, cursing. Eventually, the words turned into noises and animal barks fading into the distance.

* * *

"So, we're really leaving him back there?" Bea asked.

The band had reached the edge of the woods, and the fence that separated them from the Food Donkey. The night sky was filled with stars. Mae had no clue what time it was. Her parents were probably going to be furious. Not to mention the police.

"It's a little late to bring that up, Bea," Mae pointed out, hands on her hips. "We just hiked for, like, half an hour. My legs hurt too much to go back for him."

"Look, it's your call," Bea said. "I'm not criticizing."

"That sounds like exactly what you're doing," Mae pointed out.

Bea rolled her eyes. She hadn't lit another cigarette, which struck Mae as surprising. Right now seemed like the exact sort of moment when Bea would light one up. Then again, Bea kind of smoked constantly, didn't she?

"Okay, I'm sort of criticizing," Bea relented. "Are you sure you're not gonna be kicking yourself over this in a few days?"

"Bea, I'm kicking myself for it right now," Mae said. "Like, okay, maybe carrying him into town would've been the right thing to do. But after today, I'm way too tired to be the bigger person. Maybe later I'll feel guilty, but for now I'm not gonna go out of my way to save a guy who murdered one of my friends."

Bea was quiet. Then, she shrugged. "Okay," she said. "I guess that's fair."

Angus stood with Gregg at his side, leaning against him for support. Gregg had a single crutch wedged underneath his armpit. He'd been surprisingly quick about getting through the woods, though.

"I'm with Mae," Gregg confessed. "Like, let's just call the cops and wash our hands of this shit."

"Well," Angus pointed out, "There'll probably still be police questioning. Not only that, but he'll likely go on trial. Aside from all that, I guess we'll move on."

"A trial?" Mae asked. "So, what, we'd be witnesses? How much would we get paid?"

"Forty dollars," Angus said. "Plus travel expenses, I think. Don't ask me how I know that." Angus's neutral frown turned into a grim, serious frown.

"Really. _Don't ask me how I know that._ "

"Okay, big guy," Mae said. "After tonight, I think we've all got stuff we'd like to keep to ourselves. 'Cept for you, Germ."

It was only at that moment that Mae realized Germ had slipped away while they were hiding. This time, though, Mae wasn't worried. She didn't know where he lived exactly, but she knew it was somewhere relatively close. Still, it would've been nice to hear him say goodbye.

"Man, that guy just kinda comes and goes, huh?" Gregg asked.

Everyone was quiet. A cool wind began to pick up, blowing trash through the parking lot. A while ago, it would've been someone's job to clean up around here. But without cars or customers, no one cared. Maybe one day the whole town would be like this; empty except for the things no one cared about. But that was a while away.

"So," Bea spoke up. "That stuff about your aunt… Guess she might be alive somewhere, huh?"

Mae shrugged halfheartedly. "Maybe," she said. "Doesn't explain why she's been missing for nearly a year. Maybe Eide was wrong. Maybe she died somewhere else. But I mean, like, there's hope now. Maybe my mom'll see her again. And some hope's better than one, I guess."

"Something's usually better than nothing," Gregg agreed.

The four friends continued on their way into the parking lot, guided by the light of the stars and the faint electric glow of the town before them. The mines, now obscured behind them by trees and hills, were already beginning to fade from their minds. They were beginning to think about the future; about talking to police, waking up in the morning, and, if they didn't get arrested for leaving a dying man alone in the woods, about band practice.

Somewhere far away, a folk music quartet played a song for the lonely.

* * *

FUGITIVE FOUND DEAD IN POSSUM SPRINGS

POSSUM SPRINGS, PA – Residents of the small town of Possum Springs aren't used to anything more exciting than the local harvest festival. However, a recent incident woke the sleepy town with a start. 37-year-old Eide Shreigeist attempted to abduct 21-year-old Mae Borowski. The young musician managed to escape from Shreigeist, leading the abductor to chase Borowski down to the home of a personal friend. Shreigeist, who was armed with a pistol, threatened five individuals gathered at the residence. None of the individuals involved were harmed, and Shreigeist fled when police arrived on the scene. The ensuing manhunt was short-lived, however, as Shreigeist was found outside of the closed-down Possum Springs Mines. The 37-year-old had died as a result of multiple gunshot wounds. An investigation into Shreigeist's murder is currently ongoing.

Something of a recluse, Eide Shreigeist was the only surviving member of the Shreigeist family, one of the more influential families in Possum Springs' history. Leon Burke, one of Shreigeist's few associates, described the man as "Kind of a dick," and said he was "Not surprised something like this happened."

The exact reasons for Shreigeist's violent behavior are still unknown, leaving many residents of Possum Springs to wonder what exactly made the reclusive landowner attempt to kidnap and murder a young woman. Dr. Hank, local physiologist and psychologist, offered his professional opinion: "Sometimes stress can lead people to do strange things. If Mr. Shreigeist had just tried to counter those negative thoughts, none of this would have happened." Dr. Hank went on to diagnose Mr. Shreigeist with "Melanoma", which is not a mental illness.


	26. Autumn Days

Summer seemed to stretch on forever, just as it always did. The days were longer, the sun was brighter, and it sometimes seemed like autumn would never come. But soon, September came, and October was beginning to approach on the calendar. The leaves were changing, slowly but surely, and back-to-school displays were being replaced with Halloween displays.

In a few weeks (A month, really) it would be the one year anniversary of Mae's return to Possum Springs. A lot had happened, but at the same time, not much had changed. Gregg was out of his cast; Taco Buck was temporarily closed because of scorpions; Germ had started wearing a button in his hat.

But other than that? Not much had changed since Mae got off the bus to Possum Springs last year. Really, the only thing that had changed was Mae herself.

Mae's counselling sessions with Bort Feldman were going well. Mae was beginning to think she could open up to him a bit about the incident with the cult. Eventually. In, like, six months. Maybe.

Right now, though, Mae had an appointment to make. Sort of. Today was band practice, but Gregg and Angus wouldn't be getting off for a while. In the meantime, Mae had somewhere she wanted to be. Along the way, it wouldn't hurt to say hi to a few people.

As per usual, the first stop on Mae's trip through town was Underhill. Mae didn't even need to think about stopping to chat with Selmers; it just happened automatically. With the weather cooling down, Selmers had gone back to wearing her old hoodie. Mae was happy about that. Selmers just wasn't Selmers without her purple hoodie with a weird face on it.

"Hey, Mae," Selmers said, a mellow smile on her face. "Been a little while. What've ya been up to?"

Mae guessed it had been a little bit. For one reason or another, she'd been a little out of touch with some of the folks in town lately. Mae wanted to blame it on the incident with Eide, but really, Mae had just been sleeping a lot.

"Same old, same old," Mae said. "Job hunting. Sorta."

Job hunting in a town like Possum Springs was easier said than done, though. Not a lot of options, and the only places out of town that were hiring were quite a bit away. Not to mention that Mae's only real job experience had lasted for two months during college. That didn't look very good on a resume.

"Ham Panther's always hiring," Selmers said. "I think they need someone to stock shelves at night."

Mae thought about it, but then shook her head. "Nah," she said. "My dad's always complaining about that place. He's probably gonna go on strike any day now. I don't wanna be working there if he does."

Selmers nodded in response, as if she was agreeing with some undeniable truth from Mae. The older woman stuffed her hands into her hoodie's pockets as she watched Mae politely.

"I been meaning to ask," Selmers said, "How'd that whole 'making amends' thing work out for you? I remember you were all pumped up about it a while ago."

Mae gave a noncommittal shrug. "It was a mixed bag," she said. "I think I traumatized a dude. But on the plus side, I made up with my ex and made friends with Levy."

Selma's eyes lit up a little bit at the mention of the town druggie. "Oh, hey, I know him," she said. "Guy's girlfriend made him start coming to the program at the church last month."

"Girlfriend?" Mae repeated. Then, after a moment: "Oh, you mean Beth. They're not really together anymore. Apparently, she slept with Steve Scriggins."

"I mean, apparently she sleeps with everyone," Selmers said. "'Least, that's what I heard. Whatever. I don't judge." Her tone was as mellow as ever. Mae guessed that Selmers saved her vitriol for Dennis and his gas station floozy.

"So," Selmers said. "You wanna hear a poem?"

Mae smiled. It had been a while since the last poem, hadn't it? Last time they'd talked poems, Selmers had been going through some writer's block. Mae began to nod enthusiastically, prompting the smile on Selmers' face to widen. The town poet cleared her throat and began to recite:

 _Fall winds_

 _And autumn leaves_

 _Come to where_

 _I live and breathes_

 _Summer's fine_

 _But really hot_

 _Autumn's better_

 _An awful lot_

"Damn," Mae muttered, awestruck. "You struck gold with that one, Selmers. I'm no poem scientist, but that's a real good poem."

Selmers gave an appreciative nod.

"Thanks," she said. "I think all the warm weather had something to do with my writer's block. It's cooling down, though, so I'm writing a little more. Getting pretty excited for fall, too."

"Yeah, me too," Mae agreed. "Can't wait to get out to Briddle. Ride the haunted hayrides. Eat some carnival food. I missed out on all of it last year. Last year was kinda nuts."

Selmers chuckled. "Well, this year's been kinda nuts for you, too. Didn't you, like, get kidnapped?"

"Yeah, but only for a couple of hours. That's not such a big deal. I mean, some people have been kidnapped their whole lives."

"Too true," Selmers mused. "Too true."

Mae nodded in agreement. Both she and Selmers had just been hit by a red, hot reality bomb, and were reeling from the fallout. Mae needed to get out of the blast zone and go to a… shelter? This metaphor was really getting away from Mae.

"Well, it was nice talking to ya," Mae said. "I gotta get going. Got somewhere I need to be."

"Don't let me hold you up, neighbor," Selmers said warmly. "You do what you gotta do. I'm sure as hell not going anywhere. Talk to me whenever."

Mae smiled and exchanged a brief nod with Selmers before turning and running off. Selmers wasn't the only one who wasn't going anywhere. Everyone was staying where they were, at least for now. They were all stuck.

But that wasn't necessarily a bad thing.

* * *

"A rewrite?" Mae repeated, surprised.

Mae's next stop after Selmers had been Lori's roof. Mae knew the building didn't belong to Lori or her family, but she still thought of it as Lori's roof. It was the sovereign kingdom of Lori Meyers, horror film aficionado and squisher of metal men.

Mae had found Lori doodling away in her notebook. Mae briefly wondered if Lori, too, was a patient of Dr. Hank's, and if the book she carried around was a journal. It would probably be rude to ask. Anyway, Mae was probably wrong. Sometimes a notebook is just a notebook.

"Yeah," Lori said as she looked down at her hands. "I've been thinking a lot about Thrill Kill Witch Cult. I think I need to work on some stuff before we start, like, filming it. Is that alright? Sorry I didn't tell you."

"Of course it's alright," Mae said. She answered as quickly as she could, in order to avoid Lori going all anxious. Mae had probably made it in time. Lori looked nervous, but she wasn't hyperventilating or repeating herself.

"Is that why you haven't, like, emailed us about filming anything lately? Because you're rewriting stuff?"

Lori nodded. Then she shook her head. Then she did a confusing sort of half-nod, half-head shake. The conflicting gestures were like some sort of ancient riddle that Mae couldn't decipher.

"I mean, it was mostly that." Lori fiddled with her hands as she spoke. A sigh escaped her, and she pulled her dangling legs up onto the roof. "I was just scared of getting started with your friends. I was worried they'd think the movie was stupid once we got into it."

"Dude, what?!" Mae asked. She couldn't hide her surprise in her voice. Lori jumped a little, and Mae immediately felt guilty. They'd only known each other for a year, but Mae already saw Lori as a sort of little sister. Either that or she was Mae's apprentice.

"Dude, Gregg and Angus wouldn't make fun of you. They're super-impressed with you. Like, you're in high school but you already know what you want to do. You've got your shit together super tight."

Lori laughed bashfully. "You make it sound like I've got everything figured out. I'm still working up the courage to tell my friends about this. I have no idea if they'd want to help or not."

Mae remembered Lori mentioning something like this before. Mae guessed it was mostly Lori's anxiety that made her hesitant to talk to her friends about the movie. If Lori's friends weren't interested in this sort of thing, they'd have to be pretty boring. Lori didn't seem like the type of person to have boring friends.

"What are your friends like? Like, what sort of stuff are they into?"

Lori seemed taken aback by the question. She looked off to the side, as if trying to remember something. "Well, they're really cool. Kind of gothy girls, I guess. They like hanging out in weird places, and listening to weird music."

Oh. Of course.

"You know, Lori, I think they'll be super into doing horror movie stuff," Mae said. "I mean, I don't know if they'd be good at acting, but they probably won't make fun of you. They'll only do that if you reveal an embarrassing story to them or something."

Lori laughed at that. "What?" She asked, disbelieving.

"Nothing, nothing," Mae said. She hopped up onto her feet and began to stretch. "Well, I gotta get going. Got someone I need to talk to."

"Oh, okay!" Lori sounded a good deal more chipper. Mae was glad she'd been able to cheer the younger girl up. Lori was a good kid. Also, she was possibly a witch. Mae thought lots of people in town were witches, though.

Mae just really wanted witches to exist.

* * *

It was still a while before band practice, so Mae had time to drop in on Bea. It was towards the end of the day, before the Pickaxe closed, so the store was mostly empty when Mae got there. There were just a few guys in the back, and one surly goth up at the front counter.

Although she didn't smile, Bea's mood seemed to visibly improve when she saw Mae step in. It was something in her eyes, Mae thought. Either that, or Mae and Bea were just really in sync. It was like twin telepathy, only they weren't related, or twins, and Mae was pretty sure neither of them were psychic.

"G'day, Beebee." Mae greeted her friend with an Australian accent for some reason. Mae wasn't sure why. Australian accents just seemed to cheer people up.

It certainly worked in this case. Bea snorted with laughter, raising a hand to cover her mouth as she did so. "What the hell was that supposed to be?" She asked, raising a single eyebrow.

"One of my many talents. I'm a master at accents." Mae grinned slyly, eyebrows lowered. "Speaking of my talents, about that application I put in…"

Bea's smile dissolved away pretty quickly. That wasn't a great sign, probably.

Bea had put up the 'HELP WANTED' sign a few days ago, and Mae had put in an application pretty much right away. Bea had been pretty reluctant to accept the application, but Mae had smooth talked her. Mae was pretty confident she could get the job. She'd gotten a hell of a lot more responsible lately.

"Mae, you've got zero sales experience," Bea said. "And even if you did, I wouldn't have a lot of confidence in you. I'm worried you'd try and pick a fight with customers, or break shit with the hammers we sell."

Oh, shit, that sounded like a lot of fun. Mae pushed that thought out of her mind, though, and put on her best pleading face, with the biggest kitten eyes she could manage.

"C'mon, Bea," Mae said. "I'm responsible. Remember how responsibly I handled the situation with Eide?"

Bea frowned a bit. "Mae, Eide got shot to death almost as soon as we got back into town."

Mae felt her stomach turn as she was reminded of that fact. When they'd told the police where Eide is (And were thoroughly chewed out for acting so irresponsibly), Mae had thought Eide would wind up in jail. Part of Mae even thought he'd confess to his crimes, and Mae wouldn't have to keep her secrets anymore.

But that wouldn't be a good way for the secret to be revealed, would it? Mae felt like it would be better for Casey's parents to not know what happened to him. Better, at least, than hearing what happened from his murderer.

In any case, Mae's hopes and worries had been unfounded. When the police found Eide, he'd been shot three times.

Mae remembered that Eide had pleaded with them to take him back into town. He'd said someone had his gun. Now Mae knew why he'd been so scared.

Mae wasn't sad that Eide was dead. She didn't even feel guilty, necessarily. Something about the whole thing still upset Mae, however. It was something she didn't like to think about. Thankfully, Mae doubted it that this would haunt her forever. No need to tell Dr. Feldman about it.

"Okay. Low blow, Bea, but you made your point."

"Sorry," Bea said. "That sounded funnier in my head."

"No, it's cool," Mae said. "Just, you know. Not something I wanna think about. Ever." Mae punctuated her statement with a little shrug. It wasn't the gesture a person usually used when they were indirectly responsible for a man's death, but it summed up how Mae felt pretty decently.

"Cosigned." Bea sighed and leaned on the counter. "Okay, Mae, I promise I'm going to take your application seriously. That's all, though. You're not getting any special favors just because we've been held at gunpoint together."

Mae's chuckling was cut short by the sound of the bell over the store's door jingling. It was unusual for the Pickaxe to get customers just before closing, so this caught Mae's attention. When Mae turned to see who'd come in, she saw with some surprise that it was Cole. He carried a familiar packet of papers in his hand as he approached the store's counter.

"Cole?" Mae was unable to hide her befuddlement at seeing her ex walk in. She'd been sure he'd have gone back to college by now. Had he dropped out? Cole wasn't the type of guy to do that. He stuck with things, unless those things puked on him and nearly choked him out.

"Hey, Mae!" Cole said with a laugh. He set the papers down on the counter. Mae noticed with some dissatisfaction that they were, in fact, a job application for the Pickaxe. Mae knew for a fact that the Pickaxe only had one opening available.

Cole had made a powerful enemy today.

"You're still in town?" Mae asked. She had to work to tear her eyes away from the application. Bea helped by slipping it away, hopefully to shred it. Mae didn't have anything against Cole anymore, but she really wanted this job.

Cole nodded, an oblivious smile on his face. "Yeah, probably gonna be here for a while. They're still cleaning out the college. On the plus side, there's always online classes. I figured, you know, as long as I'm stuck here, I'd get a job to help my dad out."

Oh, right. Cole's dad: Leon "Cole's Dad" Burke.

"How is your dad, anyway?" Mae asked. She did her best not to sound too worried, but Cole didn't seem to pick up on it either way.

Cole didn't stop smiling, but there was a clear change of mood in his eyes. Even if he didn't show it, it seemed Cole-io was concerned about his dad. Mae had a pretty good idea why, but didn't want to say anything. What could she say, after all? Mae wasn't even sure herself.

"He's been kinda moody lately. I think he was friends with that guy who got shot. You know, up by the mines?"

Mae just nodded. She didn't want to say anything, because she worried that anything she could say would be suspicious. Besides, Cole was in such a good mood; Mae didn't think it would be right to bum him out. Even if he was after the same job as Mae, telling Cole that his dad had once been a murderous cultist was kind of a dick move.

"Anyway, I just came in to drop off the application. I actually have to get going." Cole had a smile on his face as he absently rapped his knuckled on the surface of the counter. The smile was friendly, but uncertain.

Mae wasn't surprised. A lot of stuff in life was uncertain.

Cole indeed didn't stick around long. Once he left, and the ringing from the bell over the door faded away, Mae turned to Bea to ask the question she needed answered.

"So, like… you're gonna give me the job instead of Cole, right?"

"I dunno, Mae," Bea said with a tone of mock indecisiveness. "Just glancing at his application, Cole's got a lot more experience than you do. Plus, he's kinda cute."

Mae's eyelids lowered. Even if Bea was joking, that wasn't really funny.

"Seriously? You'd hire someone else instead of your best friend just because you think they're cute?" Mae crossed her arms over her chest. "I could be cute if I wanted to. I could be cute as hell. Way cuter than stupid Cole."

Bea rolled her eyes. There was the faintest hint of a smirk on her face.

"Relax, Maeday, I'm joking," Bea said. "Well, I was joking about hiring him because he's cute. In all seriousness, though, he's definitely more qualified than you are."

"So's almost anyone else. What makes Cole so special?"

There was a brief, pregnant pause as Bea processed what Mae just said. The corners of Bea's mouth began to lift up into a smile. A snort of laughter escaped Bea, who covered her face with her hand as she laughed. Mae didn't laugh along with Bea; she hadn't been 100% joking. Still, a small smile formed on Mae's face.

"Okay, okay. Very funny," Bea said as she regained her composure. "Now, don't you have somewhere you need to be?"

"Oh, shit." Mae looked down at her wrist, only to remember she didn't wear a watch. She was gonna guess she still had plenty of time before band practice.

"Alright. I gotta go. See you at band practice?"

"More likely than not," Bea said. She'd already returned to her bored, slightly depressive tone of voice.

Mae hurried out the front door and began running towards the Snack Falcon.

* * *

"See, I actually think it's stronger than it was before it was broken. Like, look at me bend my knee. I could probably, like, crush a coconut with my knee now. My bones are stronger than ever before."

"You can bend your leg like a champ, bug."

The Snack Falcon was dead and empty. Apparently, so was the Video Outpost, because Angus had gotten off of work early. The three sat around, watching Gregg bend his knee and drinking sodas that Angus had insisted on paying for.

"I can't believe they didn't let you keep the cast," Mae said after a long sip of her Fiasco Lime. "What was the point of everyone signing it if you're not allowed to keep it?"

"Oh, god, no." Gregg's face scrunched up, as if he'd just eaten something incredibly sour. "Mae, that thing stank when they cut it off. It was all sweaty and shit. I mean, I don't smell great myself, but that shit was a million times worse."

Angus nodded solemnly in agreement. "Yeah, there was no way I was keeping that thing in our apartment."

Mae didn't really see anything wrong with keeping something that smelled awful in your home. Then again, Gregg and Angus were both more responsible than Mae. They probably did their laundry more than once in… never.

"Still seems like a waste," Mae muttered. She took another long sip of her soda.

It felt strange to already be talking about Gregg's broken leg in the past tense. What had once seemed like some momentous tragedy to Mae was now just a thing that had happened. It had been a brief, transitional step in the otherwise two-legged life of Gregg Lee.

Really, the only lasting repercussion of Gregg's accident was that Gregg and Angus had had to push back their move to Bright Harbor. Mae still felt guilty about that. She imagined she'd keep feeling guilty until they finally moved.

But there was no point in letting that guilt ruin things, right?

"So, are you heading out to the woods again?" Gregg's sudden question caught Mae by surprise, and she nearly gagged on her drink. Embarrassed, she collected herself as best she could and swallowed the soda she'd almost choked on.

"Yeah, yeah. Shouldn't be too long this time. Just wanna stop by for a few minutes."

Gregg nodded understandingly. He didn't ask Mae if she needed anyone with her, and she appreciated that. She felt better when she went into the woods alone.

Mae supposed that most people would be scared to go into the woods around town after everything Mae had been through. But the woods were part of Possum Springs. Even if they were spooky, Mae couldn't be scared of them. The woods were part of Mae's home. Nothing would change that.

"We're probably gonna go to the Clik Clak after band practice," Angus said. He finished his drink and dropped it into the trash bin behind the counter. "You wanna come?"

"No, I'm gonna have dinner at home. Plus, I'm supposed to chat with Bombshell later."

It felt weird to still be calling her 'Bombshell' after all this time. Mae had been talking to the violet-haired party girl online for some time now. Mae was almost certain she knew the girl's name. It probably started with a D, or maybe a J. One of those two letters.

"Ooh, an online date?" Gregg's voice took on an excited tone. Gregg was as enthusiastic for Mae and Bombshell's relationship as Mae was for Gregg and Angus's. It felt good to have him in her corner.

"Not really," Mae said. "I mean, we aren't technically dating. We just talk online about animals and wrestling and stuff."

"I don't get wrestling." Angus sounded almost sad about not being a huge mark. Mae pitied him for not having any love for the greatest form of live entertainment.

"Remember when I tried out for the wrestling team back in school?" Gregg asked. "I wound up panicking and biting that one guy. It was wild."

"That's why real wrestling is worse than pro wrestling," Mae said, "Because you're less likely to see biting. Also, there are, like, no suplexes in real wrestling. It's just two guys rolling around on the ground."

"I looked good in a singlet, though," Gregg mused.

Angus shook his head solemnly. "Wish I could've seen that."

That got a laugh out of Gregg and Mae. After a moment, Angus was chuckling along with them. The fluorescent lights flickered and the muzak played almost in time to the friends' mirth.

When they moved, Mae thought, there would be less times like these. There might not be a moment like this ever again. But these moments had already happened, and it didn't matter if history repeated itself. Mae would always remember having her best friends with her, and that would be good enough.

* * *

There was one last stop on Mae's way to the woods, although it technically wasn't really a stop at all. The old, empty Food Donkey and its old, empty parking lots were just right next to all of the trees and spookiness.

Mae could have just walked straight into the woods, but once again, Germ Warfare was standing in the middle of the parking lot. Mae still didn't quite get why he spent so much time out on the blacktop. Was it a philosophical thing? Did he just like parking lots?

Moreover, it seemed like Germ was always directly in Mae's path. It was always impossible for Mae to move forward without moving around Germ. How did he always manage to be just in front of her like that?

Was it possible he knew she was coming? No. That definitely couldn't be it.

It was still spooky, though.

Mae, as usual, was the first to acknowledge the other. She raised her hand in a friendly wave as she walked up to the little oddball. Germ didn't react or acknowledge her until she actually spoke to him.

"Yo, bird. What's the word?" Mae asked once she was within speaking distance. Germ didn't laugh at her totally awesome and original rhyme. That kind of bummed Mae out a little.

"Hey, Mae," Germ chirped. "I'm in the parking lot."

"Yes. Yes you are." Mae wasn't perturbed by most of Germ's odd statements anymore. Unless he said something really shocking, Mae was more or less used to the things that came out of Germ's mouth.

"I saw Scriggins go into the Food Donkey a li'l while ago. Think he's going after copper in the walls."

"Oh, God." Mae made a disgusted gagging sound and rolled her eyes. "I don't get why that guy's not in jail by now. He's a total creep."

"He's not so bad," Germ said, shrugging halfheartedly. "I mean, you and Gregg break into places all the time. Didn't you almost burn the school down once?"

"That was different." Mae didn't appreciate being lumped into the same category as Steve. She might have acted out from time to time, but Steve was just a bully. They were nothing alike, right?

Mae didn't like thinking about this sort of thing. Luckily, Germ decided that it was time to once again randomly change to a different topic.

"My gramma says the woods are real quiet lately," Germ said. "She says that the stars are coming back into the sky."

"What?" Mae asked, raising one single eyebrow in confusion. "Germ, there've always been stars in the sky. The stars never went anywhere. I look at the stars every night, so I'd know if they just, like, left."

"My gramma's spooky," Germ said, as if that explained everything. "Sometimes she tells you stuff, and you're not supposed to tell anyone else about it. But she said it was okay to tell you. She said you'd know what she was talking about."

Mae really didn't. She didn't really know anything about Germ's gramma. Mae assumed that she was just senile, like her granddad had been in his last few days. You'd have to be senile to think the stars were gone, right?

But that part about the woods being quiet got to Mae a little. She hadn't heard that awful scraping sound in a long time. The noise she'd associated with Eide and his cult had more or less disappeared. Mae's dreams had been calming down, too. She didn't wake up wondering what had just happened nearly as much as she used to.

"I don't think you're supposed to understand," Germ clarified. "You're just supposed to know. I should introduce you to my gramma sometime. She could prob'ly explain it better than me. She's real spooky, though. You'd probably freak out."

"Wait, hold on," Mae said. "Your grandma said you could tell this to me? How does your grandma even know about me? Like, at all?"

"Oh, my whole family knows about you," Germ said. "I tell them about all my friends. 'Specially you, since you're so cool."

That made Mae smile. Unprompted compliments were always a nice surprise; especially from someone like Germ, who seemed to call it like he saw it. The stuff his gramma had told him was still a little weird, but that didn't take away from the niceness of the compliment.

"You gonna be at band practice later?" Mae asked. Germ responded with a disinterested shrug.

"I mean, probably. I don't have anything else to do."

"One of these days we're gonna rock your socks off, Germ," Mae said confidently. "We'll play a song and your jaw's gonna hit the floor 'cause it's so good. After that, you'll beg to come to our band practices."

"Okay," Germ said, not entirely convinced. "I mean, I won't hold my breath. But if that's a thing you think will happen one day, I won't ruin your fantasy for you."

Mae frowned. Sometimes she wished Germ was a little less honest. When Gregg and Angus moved, and Germ and Mae started hanging out more, Mae would have to try and teach him some manners.

Or at least teach him how to pretend to like someone's music.

* * *

Mae had only been in the woods for ten seconds, and already she had a problem. The seat wasn't comfortable.

Mae supposed that was to be expected. She was in the woods, not a discount furniture store. A dry, old tree stump wasn't the same as a dry, old recliner. Not like they could haul a recliner out into the woods, anyway.

Actually, they totally could do that. But where would they find a spare recliner? Also, why would they bother doing it?

Mae hadn't come out to the woods to be comfortable. Kind of the opposite, really. This wasn't a happy trip to make. The small, nondescript patch of ground that sat in the middle of the path up to the mines was a place for quiet contemplation.

Right at Mae's feet, she could still make out the spot where they'd buried it. They'd chosen to do it here; it felt right to set this up in the woods. They didn't want to put it any closer to the mines, though. The mines were where he'd died; it wouldn't have felt right to do it there.

It was probably the closest thing Casey had to a real grave. Buried under a foot of soil was a small, tin box with a few mementos inside. They hadn't put much in; a pair of his old drumsticks, a few photos, and a single scrap of paper from the band's old song book.

Mae wondered if this was all Casey would ever get. His parents were still putting up posters, hoping beyond hope for something Mae knew would never happen. If they never found out what had happened to him, this would be the only funeral Casey would ever get.

"Sorry it took us a year to do this," Mae laughed.

There was no answer. Mae hadn't heard Casey's voice in her head since that strange dream she'd had in Eide's basement. That was fine, though. Mae didn't need an answer. She just needed to say some things out loud.

"If you were here, you'd probably be pissed at us for burying those drumsticks. I don't know why; they weren't even your favorite pair. You just hoarded those things. You probably had, like, a dozen pairs of drumsticks stashed away all over town."

Mae sniffed. She didn't feel like she was going to cry. She was past the point of crying. But that didn't mean she could smile.

"Gregg and me wanted to do a Viking funeral," Mae continued. "We would've loaded a bunch of your shit onto your boat, and then set it on fire at sea. But, like, that would have involved stealing the boat from your house, and the closest coastal town is Bright Harbor. That's hours away.

"I'm real sorry. I know that's how you would've wanted to go out."

The sky was turning a darker shade of blue. Mae had no clue what time it was, but she had a feeling she only had a few minutes until she had to head off to band practice. She had a feeling no one would mind if she was a little bit late, however.

"I don't think I'll ever be over this shit," Mae said with a sigh. "This is going to stick with me forever. And whatever's wrong inside of my head…"

Mae stopped. She didn't want to talk about her episodes. Not because saying them out loud made them seem real, but because now wasn't the time.

"I guess what I'm saying is, some stuff you can't let go of. Like, you hold onto the good stuff, but you also hold onto the bad stuff. And it all sticks together, even when you let some of the stuff go. So the good stuff and the bad stuff are… stuck… I guess."

Mae shook her head. "Damn it. I lost it."

Mae fell silent. She didn't think Casey minded that she'd lost track. Sometimes it was hard to say things, after all.

With a sigh, Mae stood up. She felt like she probably hat a bunch of twigs and shit stuck to her butt, but she didn't really care. Mae gave one last look down at the spot where Casey's box had been buried.

Maybe one day, the box would get dug up. Or maybe rain or something would uncover it, and someone would stumble upon it by chance. But it didn't matter if someone found it; what mattered was that it had been buried. What mattered was that Mae knew it was here.

And even if someone did find it, they would only find some junk if they opened it. There would just be an old pair of drumsticks, a few old phots, and a sheet of paper with the notes and lyrics of a song scrawled into the margins.

Bea had gotten copies of the song made. But the original belonged here, with the rest of Casey's memories. And maybe someday, the ghosts of the Deep Hollow Hollerers, or whoever it was that played the music in Mae's dreams, would learn this song.

And the night air would be full of someone playing 'Born to Lose'.

* * *

When Mae finally got to the Party Barn, everyone was already there. Gregg was tuning his guitar, while Bea was setting up her laptop. Angus stood over Gregg's shoulder, quietly talking to him. Germ was off in a distant corner, watching everyone with his typical mild interest.

When the creaky old back door swung closed, everyone's eyes turned to Mae. Gregg's face lit up into a bright smile, and Angus added his own little smile to the display. Bea, cigarette in her mouth, nodded curtly at Mae. Even Germ lifted his hand in a friendly wave.

"How'd it go?" Bea asked as Mae walked into the Birthday Zone.

"Pretty good," Mae said. "I mean, everything was still there. Didn't seem like any raccoons were trying to eat Casey's drumsticks."

"That's good!" Gregg said enthusiastically. He plucked at the strings of his guitar a few times, and went back to adjusting his instrument.

"You've been going up there a lot less lately," Angus said. "Like, you used to go up there almost every day. Is everything okay?"

Everything was not okay. The world was a big, messed up place. Mae was dealing with both an uncertain future and what was most likely a serious mental illness. Her best friend would be moving away sooner or later, and Possum Springs would only be able to provide comfort for so long.

But despite all of that, Mae still felt hopeful. She felt like she could keep moving on through everything. She didn't know if she'd succeed, but she knew she'd at least try.

"Yeah," Mae said finally. "Things are good. Things are real good."

"Okay, are we gonna play a song, or what?" Bea asked. Her arms were crossed over her chest as she stood aside impatiently. Despite her posture, Mae could make out a faint smile on her face. She really did enjoy these band practices, it seemed.

"Can we play a song I actually know this time?" Mae asked. "I swear, every other practice, it's some new song I've never heard of."

"We had a lot of time to write songs while you were at college," Gregg said with a shrug. "We've still got at least a year's worth of 'em to go through."

Mae grimaced. That was definitely something to look forward to. She could already hear the misplayed notes and the twang of incorrect bass strings. It occurred to Mae that a good way to get back at Gregg would be to make the band play a new song she'd written herself.

That was definitely a project Mae could look forward to. It had been a while since she'd written a song. It would be nice to have something to do, on top of that.

"Alright," Mae said after a moment. "What're we playing?"

But it didn't really matter what particular song was played. All that mattered was that they all did something together. The blisters on Mae's fingers and the music in her ears told her that all of this was real. It would still be real, even when Gregg and Angus moved away. Even if these were the last real days all of them would spend together as real friends, the memories would still be there.

These things would stay with Mae. She'd remember them long after everything else. She'd remember them even if the details faded, and all she had left were ghosts.


	27. Epilogue

_Despite several setbacks and hiccups, Angus and Gregg eventually made it to Bright Harbor. Though it took them some time to reach anything approaching comfortable living, and the two had several rocky patches in their relationship, the two are currently living happily together._

 _Bea took several online classes, but was unable to obtain a degree until much later in her life. Several years in the future, she and Mae opened up a barbecue place out by the highway. It got three stars._

 _Levy eventually cleaned up his act and got a job at the historical society. He still occasionally enjoys recreational marijuana._

 _Steve Scriggins was elected mayor of Possum Springs in a landslide election. While his friends and loved ones celebrated Steve's victory, he took the opportunity to sneak out and rob all of their houses._

 _Cole eventually defeated the scorpions._

 _After his mother passed away, Angus and his brother slowly fell out of contact with each other. They still exchanged holiday messages, but the two have drifted apart in the years since._

 _Jackie eventually led a successful revolution against the United States government and established a new, radical ruling body dedicated to the peoples' interests. She is currently serving out her second term as First Citizen._

 _Germ Warfare would go on to consider wearing a different hat. He is reported to still be on the fence._

 _Stan and Candy Borowski are currently happily retired. Though they still have financial troubles, they managed to keep the house._

 _Cole's father, Leon, became reclusive in the years following Eide's death. Shortly after Cole graduated from college, Leon attempted to take his own life. He was placed under hospital observation, where he eventually passed away of natural causes._

 _Buck continued to be bad at conversations. No one knows who he is._

 _Andy Cullen married his college boyfriend, Eli, and moved to a different state. Though he has tried to put his past behind him, he still occasionally has nightmares about a girl he barely knows attacking him with a bat._

 _Dr. Bart Feldman was originally supposed to have a larger role in this story. That didn't really work out. Dr. Feldman would go on to play a minor role in a Full House slash fic._

 _The Janitor never appeared before Mae again, though she would sometimes swear she could see him passing by in the street._

 _Bombshell continued going to parties, drinking, and chatting up cute girls. Eventually she and the right cute girl and settled down. They have a dog, two cats, and no children._

 _Casey's parents continued to put up missing persons fliers for 10 years. Though Casey was never found, citizens of Possum Springs will swear they see his spirit walking along the old train tracks. He has joined Little Joe as a local legend._

 _To this day, Eide continues to be dead._

 _Lori M. was able to go to film school, and enjoyed reasonable success as a director of low-budget horror movies. While she has not yet directed any summer blockbusters, she has a decent-sized following of fans who eagerly await her new films at various horror film festivals._

 _Selmers continued to make her way in the world at her own pace. She eventually decided to self-publish a book of her poems. It had a very limited run, and was really only bought by her close friends and family. Selmers is reported as being content with her book's mild success._

 _Mr. Chazokov didn't appear in this story._

 _Mae eventually left Possum Springs and moved to Idaho with her significant other. The two live on a farm with their pets and enjoy a self-sustained lifestyle. Once a year, Mae travels to Bright Harbor to visit Gregg and Angus, and goes to Possum Springs for the holidays._

 _Though they have gone their separate ways, the members of the band all remain close friends._


End file.
